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I 















HORIZON 


AN ORIGINAL DRAMA OF CONTEMPORANEOUS SOCIETY 
AND OF AMERICAN FRONTIER 
PERILS. 


IN FIVE ACTS AND SEVEN TABLEAUX. 





AUGUSTIN DALY. 

M 


AS ACTED AT THE OLYMPIC THEATRE, NEW YORK CITY, 
FOR THE FIRST TIME, MARCH 21st, 1871. 


NEW YORK: 

AUTH OR- . 

.inog 

1UUUT' 


OO.OK 


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CW-aA 

TWO COPIES REC^IVEO. 



<1 ^ 4 " 

CW-V. fb \ y °\ ^ . 


DRAMATIS PERSONAS AND ORIGINAL CAST 


ALLEYN VAN DORP, just from West Point with his first com- 
mission. Dispatched to the Far West . . Mr. Hart Conway 
COKE BALLOU, ESQ., A gentleman, who professes what he 
practices ; i. e., The law ; crusty as coke and dry as a 

whip Mr. C. Warwick 

SUNDOWN ROWSE, ESQ., A distinguished member of the 
Third House at Washington. Owning a slice of every 
Territory, and bound for the Far West to survey his new 
Congressional Land Grant, which lies just this side of the 

Horizon Mr. G. L. Fox 

THE UNATTACHED MR. SMITH, not a member of the Joint 
High Commission, and unattached to the British Lega- 
tion at Washington Mr. H. R. Teesdale 

JOHN LODER, alias Panther Loder, alias White Panther — One 
of the reasons for the establishment of “Vigilance Com- 
mittees” in the peaceful hamlets of the Plains 

Mr. J. K. Mortimer 

WOLF VAN DORP, One of the sort the West opens its arms 

to recieve Mr. J. B. StudleY 

ROCKS OF TENNESSEE, The Mayor of Rogue’s Rest, one of 

the magic cities of the West Mr. O. B. Collins 

“UNCLE BILLY” BLAKELY, An enfranchised citizen of that 

enterprising town Mr. G. A. Beane 

MR. MACKENZIE, otherwise known as “Sandy Mae,” — another 

Mr. J. L. Debonay 

JUDGE SCOTT, the chairman of that Bulwark of Western 

Liberty: — the Vigilance Committee . . . .Mr. E. T. Sinclair 

SALER ATUS BILL, \ M of < em , \ Mr. F. S. Wilbur 

GOPHER JOE, / More ot em • / Mr. Tyson 

CEPHAS, A Fifteenth Amendment Mr. I. Pendy 

THE HEATHEN CHINEE, who does not understand, 

Mr. H. H. Pratt 

SERGEANT CROCKETT, One of Uncle Sam’s Police of the 

Prairies Mr. Frank Chapman 

WANNEMUCKA, The civilized Indian and “Untutored Savage” 
who dwells with the white settlers in their villages, 

Mr. Charles Wheatleigh 

WAHCOTAH, The friendly Indian who stops among the white 

soldiers at their Fort Mr. W. H. Pope 

GUIDE Mr. Atkins 

MED, White Flower of the Plains Miss Agnes Ethel 

MISS COLUMBIA ROWSE, The Belle of Both Houses and fas- 
cinator of the Lawmakers Miss Ada Harland 

MRS. VAN DORP, The Abandoned Wife Mrs. J. J. Prior 

THE WIDOW MULLINS, Emigrant parent, of undoubted ex- 
traction Mrs. Yeamans 

RHODA, her daughter Miss Fanny Beane 

ONATA, a prairie princess Miss Lulu Prior 

NOTAH, The little papoose, who’d became the spoil of the stranger 

Jennie Yeamans 

ALICE, of the Van Dorp Household, Flora Lee 

Citizens of Rogue’s Rest, Indians, Indian Maidens, Soldiers. 



ACT I. 


Scene. — Parlors in the Van Dorjp city house , Waverly Place , 
New York. Elegant saloon divided by arches , c. Windows 
at back, looking upon Washington Park. An apartment seen 
off R. u. E., through another arch. Hallway and main en- 
trance R 2 e. Mantel at r., with framed picture above it, the 
face turned to the wall. Table, l., with lamp, books, etc., ink- 
stand and pens, blotting paper, legal paper. Elegant furni- 
ture of various patterns about, in each apartment. 

Mr. Ballou is discovered sitting at table, pen in mouth, pressing 
blotter on paper. He takes up paper and reads : 

Ballou. Hum ! I think that’s about what she wants. A full 
and particular exhibit of the property, real, personal and mixed, 
belonging to Margaret Van Dorp. Now, whosoever gets it at her 
death, gets a very snug fortune. [. Folds paper up, puts it 
in his pocket with a number of others, which he takes from table, 
then looks at his watch. Bell , as if of street door — heard."] Hallo ! 
Some other visitor! We shan’t have an opportunity for a private 
conference after all. [Rises and crosses to mantel, r. c.] 

Alice shows in Capt. Alleyn, from r. 2 e., who enters with hat, 
travelling-bag and light overcoat. 

Alleyn. Glad to be home again. That I am. All night on 
train. J ust stopped at the hotel to fix up — ran over after break- 
fast. [ Gives hat and bag to Alice.] No one here? [<Sees Bal.] 
No! Why, Mr. Ballou ! [ They meet and shake hands.] 

Bal. This is an unexpected pleasure. 

Al. So it is. I’ve just come from Washington, by the Owl 
Train. Where’s mother? 

Bal. Mrs. Van Dorp — I’ve not seen her yet. 

Al. [ To Alice.] Will you announce me to mother, and ask 
if I shall attend her in her own room, or here ? 

Alice. Yes, sir! [To Bal.] I have already told her you 
were waiting, Mr. Ballou. [Exit, r. 3 e.] 

Bal. Oh, it don’t matter about me. Lawyers can wait. We 
always charge for that, eh? 


6 


HORIZON. 


Al. I hope so. 

Bal. Especially when we are sent for on particular business. 

[/Site, r.] 

Al. [ Crossing and standing , r.] You lawyers have easy lives. 
You jog about from house to house, from court to court. Now 
as to us soldiers — 

Bal. [Yawning and laughing."] As to you soldiers! 

Al. You may laugh. You think there’s no duty for us now. 

Bal. No! Thank the Lord ! 

Al. [Quizzically.] What do you think of the prospect of a 
war with England? 

Bal. Bosh ! 

Al. Well then, nearer home; how about the Indian troubles? 

Bal. They don’t hurt us, they’re a thousand or two miles off 
towards sundown. 

Al. That’s the very spot. 

Bal. [Interested.] What spot ? 

Al. Where I’m going! 

Bal. [Jidnping up, going l.] You ? 

Al. [Taking Bal.’s vacated seat] Ye-e-es! [Yawning.] 

Bal. And you are to fight the Indians ? 

Al. Unless the Indians run away. 

Bal. What will your mother, I mean Mrs. Van Dorp — pardon 
me, she regards you as a son ; what will she say to this ? 

Al. I wrote and told her the whole news. I start to-morrow 
to join my company. 

Bal. [Slapping his forehead.] An idea strikes me ! She sent 
for me because you are going away. I see it all! 

Al. Oh, you consider yourself a good substitute for me, eh? 
[Sits on c. ottoman.] 

Bal. Badinage aside. Mrs. Van Dorp, ever since she 
adopted you as a son — 

Al. Twelve years ago — 

Bal. And two years after her husband disappeared, so cruelly 
taking with him their infant daughter, Mrs. Van Dorp, I repeat, 
has spoken to me about making her will — 

Al. Then I don’t want to hear anything more about it — 
[Crosses to table, sits l. h.] 

Bal. [Takes Al.’ s seat!] Don’t be afraid. I’m not going to 
reveal her affairs, for she never told me how she meant to leave 
her property. s 

Al. All right then. Fire away! [Sits by table, L.] 

Bal. She has sent for me a dozen times, and a dozen times 
has put off’ the deed. I remonstrated, but her only excuse was : 
“ we will wait yet a little longer.” 


HORIZON. 7 

Al. Poor mother! She referred to the expectation she had, 
that hei husband would return and bring back her little girl. 

Bal. Her husband took his precautions well. If he meant to 
leave his wife forever, and to punish her, he succeeded. 

Al. To punish her? For what? 

Bal. Family history! Family history! He was poor and 
proud, she w r as rich and proud. They were both aristocrats, but 
his family, I think, was a little the older, just a little; that is to 
say, he could count more Knickerbockers for ancestors than she 
could. 

Al. You are severe! 

Bal. As I have had the genealogy searched up, I know. Well, 
they belonged to the first families, she, the richer. They were 
married. Marriage, my dear boy, is called a union of souls; 
when it is, it is doubtless a good thing ; but when it is a union of 
pride, passion and violence, it — well — well ! They lived a wretched 
life for five years. They had one daughter. The husband would 
not bow down to his wife, so she kept him on short allowance of 
money; he tried to go into business, failed, got dissipated, re- 
formed, broke down again — and was locked out of his wife’s 
house, [rises] by the way, this very house. 

Al. [Rises, down c., sadly.] Yes, I have heard. 

Bal. [Crosses to c. R., sits.] He watched it; tried to get in to 
see his child, little Margaret. Was prevented. Laid his plans 
accordingly, and one night gained admittance by force, and seiz- 
ing the child, carried it off. 

Al. Yes, so I’ve heard. And the next day a letter was 
delivered which told her — 

Bal. Her child was lost to her forever. His vengeance was 
complete. At one blow he deprived her of her only pleasure, 
and closed her doors forever to the gaiety and revelry she loved 
so much. 

Al. The spiritless, cowardly villain, who lived on her bounty 
and abused her goodness ! [Sits, c.] 

Bal. Oh, of course. But the world says, she was to blame. 

Al. She, the kindest, most generous of women ? 

Bal. Yes, to all but a husband. There are some girls who 
never ought to marry. She was one, she had no patience to bear 
the failings of a husband. 

Alice enters , r. 3 e. 

Alice. My mistress is coming, Mr. Alleyn. [Speaking out- 
side.] Come in, John ! 


8 HORIZON. 

Servant enters with a step-ladder , which he places against mantel. 

Alice. Now, then, get up right away and turn the picture. 

Servant mounts the steps , hut before he can turn the picture , Mrs. 

Van Dorp enters, r. 

Alice. Too late! Stop! [John descends ladder, as Mrs. V. 
goes to Al., who runs to meet her. She kisses his forehead.] 

Mrs. Van Dorp. My boy! \_To Alice.'] Never mind at 
present, Alice. Leave the ladder. You can go now. 

Alice. Yes, ma’am ! [Exits, u. e., with John.] 

Mrs. V. My dearest Alleyn! I have looked for you so 
anxiously. [ Crosses to c.] Mr. Ballou, I beg a thousand par- 
dons for keeping you so long. But you know how whimsical 
I am. 

Bal. Oh yes, I know. You have made me run many a wild 
goose chase before. , 

Mrs. V [To JA] You see how he scolds me. 

Bal. Its my privilege as your legal adviser. 

Mrs. V. [Sits in chair, which Al. places for her.] And you 
always advise me well. 

Bal. You are at last resolved to make — 

Mrs. V [Stops him by raising her hand.] No ! 

Bal. No? Then why am I here? 

Mrs. V. Perhaps to have one more proof of a woman’s incon- 
sistency. I sent for you determined to do — then to Al.] 
Alleyn, my dear, will you see if the windows are closed in the 
reception room yonder? 

Al. Certainly, mother! [Goes up and off, l. u. e.] 

Mrs. V. [ Quickly to Bal.] Say nothing more about this matter. 
I have changed my mind. 

Bal. Again, and why? 

Mrs. V. I am ashamed to confess it. You know my old 
reason. 

Bal. You used to say, it was because you cherished a very 
vain hope — 

Mrs. V. What if I tell you, that hope revives again? 

Bal. It is insanity to encourage such fancies. 

Mrs. V. Enough then! Being in unsound mind, I cannot 
make my will. 

Bal. But, madam — 

Mrs. V. Be satisfied with this. By the time Winter comes, 
I may send for you again. Till then, say nothing. 

Bal. But your hope — 


HORIZON. 


9 


Mrs. V. [ Rising .] Of that I will never speak to you again. 
Bal. [Crossing n. h.] Then for the twentieth time, I put my 
memoranda in my pocket, and take my leave. 

Mrs. V. Stay! You will arrange with the bankers to have 
Alleyn’s allowances sent to him in the West, wherever he may 
be stationed. 


Alleyn enters at bach. 

Bal. Oh, that’s easily arranged. Nothing more? 

Mrs. V. Nothing more! 

Bal. Good morning, then. [Bows, goes up and meets A/.] 
Well, my dear boy, take care of yourself. 

Alleyn. Going? Good-bye ! If I’m scalped, I’ll beg the fero- 
cious Indians to send you a lock of my hair. [Both laugh, Bal. 
exits, l. u. e. Al. comes down quickly.'] My dearest mother! 

Mrs. V. My son ! [She sits, and Al. brings an ottoman and 
■sits by her side, c.] I have wished so much to see you. Your 
letter told me all, but not all the little things I wished to know. 
And so you are a Captain, and you have made influential friends 
in Washington? 

Al. Yes! I wrote you about the best of them, didn’t I? The 
eccentric Mr. Rowse? 

Mrs. V. Rowse ! An odd name, not very distinguished. 

Al. Oh, he’s better than his name. A bluff, unpolished, gen- 
erous heart A shrewd fellow, but an honest politician, I’ll be 
bound. 

Mrs. V . What is his profession? 

Al. Why, a politician ! 

Mrs. V. Is that a profession ? What do they do, these poli- 
ticians? 

Al. Why they, let me see — they take care of the' public’s in- 
terests. You know the public interest must be cared for. The old 
adage is: “What’s everybody’s business is nobody’s business.” 
Now the politicians do everybody’s business, and account to no- 
body for the way they do it. That’s Rowse’s way. He got me 
my commission. 

Mrs. V. He must be a very influential man. 

Al. Very. He is interested in several railroads — not yet 
built, and he owns immense tracts of public lands, granted him 
by Congress to build the railroads on. His daughter, Miss 
Columbia Rowse, says, he owns a slice of every Territory in the 
West. 

Mrs. V. [Coldly.] His daughter? 

Al. Why, yes. Didn’t I speak of her in my letter? How 


10 


HORIZON. 


ungallant of me. She is the belle of the western country ; sets 
the hearts of all the Territory beaux in flames, and is adored by 
the House of Representatives. 

Mrs. F. {.Stiffly.'] A very charming person. 

Al. And remember, her father made me a Captain, and — oh! 
I quite forgot another. 

Mrs. V. Another daughter? 

Al. No. Another friend, whom I have also invited — Mr. 
Smith. 

Mrs. V. Mr. Smith ! What a name ! 

Al. The Honorable Arthur Wellesby Yere de Yere Smith. 

Mrs. V. [ Interested .] From England ? 

Al. An English nobleman, mother. Sixth son of an Earl, 
poor, but a good fellow, and no snob. He’s not attached to the 
British Legation at Washington, and he goes with us out West to 
see life. 

Mrs. V. They must stay with us to dinner. 

Al. Thanks, my dear mother, I now — 

Mrs. V. And now, my dear Alleyn, give me but a moment of 
your time, while I tell you — you, to whom alone I can confide it, 
a foolish old woman’s troubles. Alas, my boy, I had thought 
never to see you again. 

Al. How? You alarm me! 

Mrs. V. I have been ill, I thought dying. 

Al. And you never wrote, that I might fly to your side. 

Mrs. V. It was a sudden shock, too sudden, too sudden to call 
on any human being for aid. Last night — 

Al. So lately — 

Mrs. V. You remember that this is the anniversary of a ter- 
rible day to me. I had not the courage to suffer the servants to 
do, what on this day I have for thirteen years permitted: that 
picture to be turned from the wall. Go, Alleyn, let me look 
once more — [Al. ascends ladder, and turns the picture.] The 
picture of the man, who was once my husband, and the father of 
my child. 

Al. {At foot of ladder.] I know it well! 

Mrs. V. Little Margaret loved him ! loved him more than me. 
God forgive us all. 

Al. {Going to her and kneeling .] Poor mother! 

Mrs. V. Alleyn, I saw his face last night. 

Al. Last night? In a dream ? 

Mrs. V. It must have been, but it seemed real. Listen to me. 
It seemed that you were in some wild Western place — huts scat- 
tered here and there — a sparse and ruffianly crew about you. 
Among them was that man. 


HORIZON. 


11 


Al. Your husband. 

Mrs . V. He was unchanged — he looked the same. A man of 
deadly purpose and cruel eyes. I was by your side. He said to 
me : “ Madam, you have come here to seek me. You have found 
me. But your child you will never see again.” He turned to 
disappear into a hut. I could not move. I heard a voice, my 
little Margaret’s voice, crying out: “Mother, save me!” She 
was struggling to be free. Her cries grew fainter, then ceased. I 
fell in a swoon to the earth. When I awoke, I was upon the 
floor of my own room, alone, and cold as death. 

Al. [$i£s.] It was but a dream. 

Mrs. V. Was it not rather a divine flight cast upon the mys- 
tery that fate has wrapped around my child’s destiny ? I feel it 
to be so. And I say to you now, that I am certain your mission 
to the Far West is to be the means of restoring her to me. 

Al. I pray it may be so, with all my soul. [Ring at door.'] 

Mrs. V. Your friends! [ Crossing to door.] 

Al. Will you see them now? 

Mrs. V. Certainly ! One finds good friends so seldom, that 
yours shall be heartily welcomed at all times. 

Alice enters with two cards on a salver , which she hands to Mrs. V. 

Mrs. V. [Reading.] Mr. Smith — Miss Rowse. 

Al. I wonder where papa can be? This is the daughter, and 
accompanied by the unattached scion of nobility. 

Mrs. V. [To Alice .] Ask them in here. [Alice exits.] Is 
the Honorable Mr. Smith likely to become attached to Miss 
Columbia? 

Al. Stranger things have happened. 

Alice ushers in Mr. Smith and Miss Columbia. They come 
down c. Mrs. V., l. c. Al., r. c. 

Al. [Advancing.] Very happy indeed to see you. 

Columbia, [l. of Smith.] We came, you see ! 

Mr. Smith. [Shaking hands with Al] Thanks — very much. 

Al. Allow me to present you. Mrs. Van Dorp, Miss Rowse. 
[Crosses to A £.] Mr. Smith. [Salutations.] 

Col. I’m sure, delighted. What an elegant house. Quite an 
old family mansion. Just like the old Knickerbockers. De- 
lightful people. 

Mr. S. Charmedto have the opportunity. Yes. Van Dorp 
has spoken of you so much. Yes. 

Mrs. V. You have just arrived in the city, I believe. 


12 


HORIZON. 


Mr. S. This morning. Yes. We came — 

Col. We came by the Owl Train. All of us. Pa, and the 
Honorable Mr. Smith, and I. We look like owls ourselves, I 
dare say, — railroad travelling is so scary. 

Mrs. V. I suppose we shall have the pleasure of seeing your 
father. Pray be seated. [Al. moves stool, R. h.] 

Mr. S. [All sif] Yes. Thank you. Mr. Rowse said he 
would — ' 

Col. Said he’d come on after us. Pa is always so full of busi- 
ness. He’s got to see at least a dozen prominent men here this 
morning. Most of the prominent men are in Hew York now. 

Mrs. V. Indeed. 

Col. You know pa never has any business with any but prom- 
inent men. Pa knows all the prominent men. All the prominent 
men know pa. I know as many prominent men as pa does. 

Mrs. V. It must be very pleasant. 

Col. Oh, no | Prominent men are not at all pleasant. You 
think they are great things till you know them. When you find 
them out, there’s nothing particular about them, except that they 
are prominent. 

Mrs. F. Your opportunities of judging are very great, no 
doubt. 

Col. Oh, very! Pa and I have been in Washington every 
session for five years. All the prominent characters come to 
Washington. I know them all, from Maine to Texas. 

Al. Ha! ha! Have you any preferences as to States, Miss 
Columbia? 

Col. Not as to States. But the Territories are not nice. 

Mrs. V . [Surprise and inquiry. ] The Territories ? 

Col. The prominent men of the Territories. They come to 
Washington, but they lack polish, — no refinement. I have no 
sympathy with them. I know all the prominent characters of 
the Territories; they don’t compare with the States. But what 
I do admire, is the old families. 

Mrs. V. Your acquaintance there is also quite large? 

Col. Oh, yes! The old families come to Washington too. 
Many Knickerbockers. As soon as I heard your son’s name, I 
told pa he was a Knickerbocker. You have a real Knicker- 
bocker name. I’ve read Washington Irving all through, and I 
know all the names. 

Mr. S. It must be awfully fatiguing to remember them all. 

Col. Oh dear no ! I’ve practiced on names. Pa and I never 
forget a name. We have to remember them. A prominent man 
never forgives you if you forget his name. I tell the Honorable 
Mr. Smith he will never rise in America, because he forgets 
names. Don’t I, Honorable ? 


HORIZON. 


13 


Mr. S. Eh? Yes! Oh, yes! Miss Rowse very often says so. 
I can’t always recollect. I get them mixed, particularly the colo- 
nels, and the generals, and the judges. 

Col. Yes, it was so funny. One day he called the Governor 
of Montana Colonel, and the Governor’s Secretary he called 
Judge, and Judge Jones he called Governor, and he nearly de- 
feated one of pa’s bills. Didn’t he? [ To Al.] 

Al. I believe something happened. 

Mr. S. It was distressing. I was very sorry. Yes. But I 
apologized to the Judge, and the Secretary, and the Governor, 
and it came out all right. 

Mrs. V. That was fortunate. 

Al. I believe Miss Rowse’s powers of fascination had to be 
exercised. 

Col. Oh, you bad fellow ! [To Mrs. F.] But it’s a fact. Pa 
had to give a dinner, and I had to do the agreeable, and play 
euchre with the Governor. It’s a dreadful thing to be the 
daughter of a public man, Mrs. Van Dorp. [Al. moves stool 
down to l.] 

Mrs. V. It must be indeed. [Door bell.'] 

Col. Oh, that must be pa now. Pa can’t be very punctual, 
but he never breaks his word. In Washington the members say : 
“Sundown Rowse has given his word he’ll square things; we’ll 
go for his bill.” If pa broke his word once, he’d never get an- 
other bill through. 

Alice enters. 


Alice. Mr. Rowse. 

Mrs. V. Show Mr. Rowse in, Alice. [Alice exits.] 

Col. It’s a real holiday for pa to get away from W ashington, 
he enjoys it so much. 

Rowse. [Outside.] All right, never mind me, I’ll find the 
. way. 

Rowse enters. 

Rowse. Ah, here I am, you see. I knew Columby ’d be here 
before me! Ah, Captain! [To Mr. S.] How de do again, 
Honorable. 

Al. Allow me. [Presents Row. to Mrs. V.] My mother, Mr. 
Rowse. 

Row. Glad to see you, ma’am. Warmish day for the season. 
Run almost to death. Came straight here from the Fifth Avenue 
Hotel. [Al., Col. and Mr. S. withdraw to r., looking over port - 
folio of pictures.] 


14 


HORIZON. 


Mrs. V. Allow me to thank you, Mr. Rowse, most warmly 
for the kind interest you have taken in my son, and the great 
service you have done him. 

Bow. Don’t mention it, ma’am. It wasn’t much. I had a 
cousin wanted the commission, but he didn’t like to go and fight 
the Indians. Your son jumped at the offer. My cousin backed 
down, asked me if I thought he was a chicken to go for the 
Chickasaws, and told me, I might go myself and keno the 
Kiutes. 

Mrs. V. Alleyn is very courageous, and believes a soldier 
ought to fight. 

Bow. He’s a trump. I appreciate pluck. I come of a fight- 
ing family. They were the first settlers of Kansas. Perhaps you 
have heard of Hefty Bill Rowse of the Prairies? 

Mrs. V. I never had the pleasure. 

Bow. He was my father; one of the original border ruffians; 
as honest a man as ever lived. He cleared the settlements, and 
was elected Mayor twice by thirteen majority. Your son will 
get some notion of Western life, when he goes out. 

Mrs. V. [ Going to Al. and putting her arm about his neck.] 
My hope and belief are, that Alleyn will never forget he is a 
Christian, even among the lawless settlers of the West. 

Bow. Oh, I know him. He’s a little soft here, perhaps, but 
he’ll get hardened. Men must be hard out West, ma’am. I was 
too mild myself for it, and father sent me to Washington to 
dicker. I had a brother, who loved glory and stayed home. 
He was killed in a fight the very day I got my first bill through 
Congress. We buried him on my first land grant: two thousand 
acres near Silver Creek. 

Mrs. V. \Beturning to c.] There are many persons from the 
Eastern States, who settle in the West, are there not ? 

Bow. Thousands! Whole families! Single men — single 
women — double men — and double women, husbands and wives, 
you know, — everybody. 

Mrs. V. Do they ever change their names, when they settle 
there ? 

Bow. If they are absconders, they mostly do. If there ain’t 
no debts, nor no trouble about the law, they don’t. I know one 
town where every inhabitant’s got another name. They take 
ranks there according to the amount of debts they ran away 
from. The worst insolvent is elected Sheriff. 

Mrs. V. There are many too, no doubt, who go West to escape 
domestic troubles. 

Bow. Oh, yes. The most part of the single people out there 
are divorced. It’s a healthy country for domestic troubles. 


HORIZON. 15 

Mrs. V. And the place Alleyn is detailed for} what is it 
called? Is it much settled? 

Row. Fort Jackson! Well, it’s pretty well out towards the 
Horizon. 

Mrs. V. You are familiar with the locality? 

Row. [Mrs. Y. and Row. sit c., pulling out map .] Here’s 
the map. I know it, because my grant takes it in. I run from 
here on the west bank of the Big Run River down to Dogs’ Ears, 
that’s the name of another settlement, then out to All Gone, that’s 
an Indian camp, and then to Hollo Bill, that’s a traders’ settle- 
ment. Queer names, ain’t they ? 

Mrs. V. [Sitting.] And the inhabitants of these places ? 

Row. [. Folding map. ] Queer lot! Native Americans with a 
sprinkling of the Injun and the least speck of the Chinee. I ex- 
pect to locate several more towns, when I get out there. 

Mrs. V. You are going, too? 

Row. Oh, yes ! I’m off with the Captain. • C’lumby’s going 
too, and the Honorable Smith. I’m going to prospect for the 
first hundred miles of the Fort Jackson and Big Run branch of 
the Union Pacific Railroad, chartered by Act of Congress and 
subsidized with twenty thousand acres, well adapted for farms 
and settlements. 

Col. [ Coming down, l. c.] What on earth are you doing, 
pa? Boring Mrs. Van Dorp with your everlasting railroads and 
maps. Put ’em up. 

Row. Well, C’lumby, I— 

Col. Put ’em up, I say. This ain’t a committee room. 

Mrs. V. Your lather has been giving me most valuable in- 
formation. 

Col. All about his land grants, I suppose? 

Mrs. V . [ Significantly to Al., who comes down with Mr. S., 

r.] About the people of the West. ¥ 

Mr. S. I’m really anxious to see the great West. Yes. The 
aboriginal red men and the real original white settlers. 

Al. And I to see that noble territory, destined to be the cradle 
of a greater republic. 

Col. And I’m dying to see whether the place has grown any 
since I was a girl. The Honorable Smith is going to hunt buf- 
faloes and bison, and I’m going with him. Ain’t I ? 

Row. Well, after I’ve located my railroad — 

Col. Bother your railroad. It’s like a grand picnic. We’ll 
go over the prairies on wild horses and camp out in the woods. 

Mr. S. And eat buffalo steak cooked by the camp fire. Just 
as they do in the romances. 

Mrs. V. And the danger — 


16 


HORIZON. 


Al. Danger, mother ! What danger ? 

Mr. S. Danger ! Is there danger, truly ? 

Mrs. V. The lawless inhabitants of the settlements. I have 
heard such stories of violence. 

Mr. S. We’ll call in the police. Besides, I’m protected by 
the British flag. 

Al. They can offer, no insult to a soldier of their own land. 

Col. At least they will respect the softer sex, won’t they. 
Honorable ? 

Row. Well, if the worst comes to the worst, I’ll stand by my 
Act of Congress and retire behind my land grant. 

Mrs. V. But the Indians — 

Mr. iS. Aw — yes— the noble savage. I’ll speak to him as his 
paleface brother. I’ve read the Leatherstocking stories, and I 
think I can manage ’em. 

Al. No quarter to the savages, who murder women and chil- 
dren. But to the weak and oppressed, I may be a friend. Duty 
commands no more. 

Row. Well, I’m going to take a case of dollar store jewelry 
out with me, and trade it for furs with the simple-minded red 
man. There’s nothing like carrying civilization into the Far 
West. 

Alice enters. 

Alice. Dinner is served, ma’am. 

“* Mrs. V. Come, gentlemen. Come, Miss Bowse. 

Row. Dinner — really — bless me — I’ve half a dozen appoint- 
ments. 

Al. Oh, you must! 

Row. But I’ve so many engagements. 

Col. Let them wait for once. 

Rovh But we start at eight. 

Mrs. V. And so, at least, we can spare one hour in paying 
farewell to friends we may never see again. \_All surround Row., 
and preceded by Mrs. V., they go up.'] 


Curtain. 


HORIZON. 


17 


ACT II. 


Scene. — The town of Rogue’s Rest — sixty miles from , Fort Jack- 
son — one of the wooden cities of the West. Hotel oj primitive 
order at l., with portico, etc. Sign: “ Occidental Hotel , on the 
European plan.” Opposite , on n., a building of two stories , 
upper windows practicable, and reached by door and steps 
facing audience, over which hangs a lamp and painted thereon 
“ The Clarion of the West.” Lower floor with signs, etc., denoting 
Pacific Express office. At back is a low fence, partly conceal- 
ing a house and low shed. Gate in fence near l. 

At the rise of the curtain Rocks of Tennessee, the landlord of 
the hotel, and late Mayor of the town, is seated on piazza in a 
wooden arm-chair, smoking, in a loose lined duster. Wanne- 
mucka, the Indian, is lying, l., in front of hotel, pretending 
sleep. In c. of stage is a group of rough settlers, some sitting, 
others standing, engaged in loud discussion. Among them is 
Blakely, Gopher Joe and Mackenzie. 

Blakely. Why won’t they hang ’em ? 

Gopher. Quick work, I say ! 

Mackenzie. No gal’s work for us. 

Crowd. No nonsense! Clear the settlement! Give us a 
chaw of terbacker! 

Rocks. Give us a rest, boys, do f What’s the use of a row ! 
If the job’s to be done, it will be, and there’s an end. 

Blade. It oughter been did afore. 

Mac. Two months ago. 

Rocks. Well, aint you satisfied now? You’ve tilted me out 
of my lawful authority as Mayor of this settlement, and you’ve 
taken the law into your own hands. 

Blak. No disrespect to you, boss, you know. 

All. Oh, no ! 

Rocks. I know it, boys, and I’m much obliged. The civil 
power wasn’t able to control. The settlement got overrun with 
blacklegs, horse-thieves and other alibis and aliases, as we say in 
the law-books, and so the citizens unite to clean the town them- 
selves. 

Blak. [To others.'] That’s it, like a book. 

2 





3 


18 


HORIZON. 


Kochs. You’ve formed a Vigilance Committee, and the Vigi- 
lance Committee cleared the streets effectually. 

Blah. Not quite, governor. After the clearing two weeks 
ago, a few specks of dirt still stuck to us. 

Kochs. You mean Loder, the gambler? 

Blah. Yes, and Wolf! 

Kochs. Old Wolf? Why, he’s only a nameless old sot. He 
sleeps his day in that shanty yonder, more like a pigsty than a 
house. [All looh bach at house.] I’m agin turnin’ him off, for 
the sake of his gal. 

Blah. Let ’em go somewhere else. We’re hard-fisted, hard- 
working men. Mac, pint yer pistol. [ Tahes dram from bottle 
produced by Mac.'] Empty again. That’s the fourth time to-day. 
Reform is powerful dry work. I say, Mr. Mayor, have her filled 
up. [Rocks catches bottle and throws it inside.] Clear ’em all 
out, I say, and begin with the Injun, 

Mac. Oh, the Injun will go, if we kick him out. 

Kochs. Boys, it seems to me there’s an almighty powerful 
talk here by the jury, right afore one of the condemned. [ Points 
to Indian.] 

Blah. Oh, he’s drunk, as usual. 

Mac. Not so early. 

Kochs. Listening, I’ll swear! [Significant nod to boys , as he 
rises and draws pistol.] Boys, the Injun might as well go at once. 
I’ve got my blotter handy, and we might as well wipe him off 
the records now. I’ll just pint his ear and blaze. [Goes to Wan., 
eochs his pistol audibly , then pomts the muzzle first at his head , then 
over it, and fires. The Indian don’t stir.] Dead drunk ! 

All. Oh, he’s all right ! 

Rowse appears at window of hotel and loohs out. 

Kowse. Hallo ! you there! [Crowd looh up.] 

Blah. Hallo yourself ! Who are you, stranger? 

Kochs. It’s all right, gentlemen. There’s a party come in last 
night on their way to Fort Jackson. This is one of them. Mr. 
Rowse is all right. Let me introduce you to some of our citizens, 
leading citizens. Leading citizens, Mr. Rowse! Mr. Rowse, 
leading citizens ! 

Kow. How are you, leading citizens ! What are you holding 
a town meeting for? 

Blah. Stranger! The free and independent residents of this 
place don’t usually explain their business to folks from other 
settlements; but if you want particularly to know, why, we’ve 
formed a Vigilance Committee, to reform the character of our 
population, 


HORIZON. 19 

Row. A what? A Vigilance Committee? [Calling inside.] 
I say — Smith — here ! 

Mr. Smith appears at window. 

Mr. Smith. Good gracious! What is it? 

Row. Did you ever hear of that peculiar institution of the 
Far West, called a Vigilance Committee? Here’s one, you igno- 
rant Britisher; take a look. 

Mr. S. Vigilance Committee! Good gracious, yes! Some 
kind of animal. Where is it? 

Rocks. The Committee is meeting in the newspaper office. 
[ Points .] 

Row. Ah ! The head of the animal is across the street. This 
is only the tail. 

Mr. S. Yes! Good gracious! 

Blak. Strangers! The Committee is a scary animile, and 
mustn’t be riled. If you ain’t got proper respect for it — 

Row. [Loudly. ] Bespect for it ! [. Blandly .] Will you kindly 
excuse me for a brace of shakes, until I can come down stairs. 

All. Oh, come down out of that! 

Row. Thanks! Honorable, let’s descend. [They disappear.'] 

Blak. [To Rocks.] Who are these suckers? 

Rocks. Very influential man, Mr. Bowse, from — Washington. 
Eh, here he is ! 

Bow. and Mr. S. enter from hotel. Crowd observes them sulkily. 

Row. [c.] Happy to make your acquaintance. May I ask 
what this Committee is met for ? 

Blak. [r.] To sit on the live bodies of four parties that must 
get out or be put out. 

Row. You propose to expel four of your fellow-citizens? 

Mac. [Savagely, l. of him.] Yes, we do ! 

Row. I beg your pardon! How are you? [Shakes hands 
with him.] And may I ask whom you propose to put out ? 

Blak. First — an old drunken sot, Whiskey Wolf they call him, 
he hangs out over there. 

Row. And what’s he done? 

Mac. He’s drunk and disorderly. [Passes bottle around 
’mongst crowd.] 

Blak. Secondarily — A scoundrel that calls himself Loder — 
a gambler and worse, if there can be! [Takes off hat to wipe face, 
pack of cards fall out.] 


20 


HORIZON. 


j Row. He’s very offensive to the community, I suppose ? More 
so than Whiskey Wolf, eh? 

Mac. Oh, Wolf’s only a boozer. 

Mr. S. A what ? 

How. A boozer ! From the verb to booze, one who boozes. 
[To Mac. ] When does he booze particularly ? 

Mac. All day. Loafs all the time. Never does a day’s 
work. Then there’s the Chinee. 

Row. You haven’t got a Chinee here? Not a regular Heathen 
Chinee ? 

Blak. Yes, we have. The varmin ! 

j Row. And what does he do ? 

Blak. Why, he works for half-pay. Steals the bread out of 
honest men’s mouths. 

Mr. S. You condemn one fellow because he don’t work, and 
•another because he does. 

Blak. Stranger! We clear out every feller as don’t do as we 
want him to. 

Mr. S. Yes, I see! 

Blak. Lastly — That Indian yonder — lying over there drunk. 

Row. Oh, that’s one of the criminals ! Where are the others? 

Blak. I reckon you’ll find Whiskey Wolf drunk in thar. 
[. Points to fence.'] The Chinee is sent for. He’s down in the 
hollow, making chairs out of swamp rushes, and the boys are 
laying for Loder down by the Tree Tavern. 

Row. Very good! Now, my fellow-citizens, you can leave 
this job as fast as you please. 

All. [Starting.] What ! » 

Row. I say you can get an extension of time to perform this 
contract, and go home with your minds easy. 

Blak. What do you mean? 

Row. I mean this. From what I see, the people you mean 
to turn adrift on the plains are no worse than the average crowd 
that’s necessary in pretty nearly every well regulated city. And 
they may as well stay here, as go to other settlements to steal. 

[ Murmurs by the crowd.] 

Blak. Stranger, was your parents particularly long lived ? 

Row. They stood the chills pretty well for their time of life. 

Blak. Well, they never had sich powerful shakes as you’ll 
have, if you don’t get into your shafts and travel pretty quickly. 

Mr. S. Good gracious ! What does he mean ? Get into your 
shafts ! He takes you for a horse ! 

Row. All right, gentlemen ! I see you want things done 
regularly, and the papers produced. [ Takes out map.] Ho you 
see this map? Here’s Fort Jackson, there’s All Gone, and there’s 


HORIZON. 21 

Rogue’s Rest — the flourishing city, where we now stand to inhale 
the breath of freedom. 

All. [ Looking over his shoulder .] Correct ! 

Row. You observe a red line, which takes in the various lo- 
calities aforesaid and stretches out to the top of Coyote Hill. 

All. [.As before.'] Correct ! 

Row. Then, here’s a copy of the grant by which the Govern- 
ment of the United States has conveyed to me the whole of this 
purchase, including your populous city. In other words, I’m 
the owner of this here settlement, the landlord of the premises, 
and proprietor generally. In a few words more, I won’t have 
any mob law, and no Vigilance Committees, and no riots, and 
no games of that sort on my land. How’s that for turning up a 
bower ? Do -you pass ? 

Blah. [. Drawing pistol.] No, stranger, I order it up. 

Mr. S. Good gracious ! Where’s the police ? 

Blah. Boys, shall we give them a taste of our productions? 

All. Clear ’em out. [ They draw hnives, pistols.] 

Blah. Take up them papers! Put them up, I say! [Row. 
gathers map nervously.] Now git ! 

Row. But I say — 

Mr. S. Don’t touch me — I’m a British subject. I’m under 
the protection of the British flag. 

Mac. \_Knochs Mr. S.’s hat off.] Oh, scissors ! [Hat Inched 
about.] 

Row. You’ll hear from me. I’ll — [The two are hustled to- 
wards the hotel, etc.] 

Rochs. Now, gentlemen, — [Interposing.] 

Saleratus Bill enters from r. u. e., running. 

Bill. I say, boys, Loder and the Chinee have gone down 
by the Gulch. Slater thinks they are skedaddling. 

Blah. The devil they are. After ’em, lads. Don’t let ’em 
slope till we get through with ’em ! 

The mob run off, headed by Blak. and Bill, crying: “ This 
way,” (( All right,’” u Go it,” etc. 

Mr. S. [Picking up hat, which the mob have given a final hich.] 
It’s an outrage. It’s a blarsted country, altogether. 

Row. I’d like to know the good of an Act of Congress, if it 
ain’t respected out here. 


22 


HORIZON. 


Alleyn enters , r. 1 e., gaily . 

Alleyn. Hallo! What’s up? You look flushed. 

Mr. S. Flushed? Yes! By Jove! Just look at my hat, 
that’s flushed. 

j Row. Cap, you’re just the man I want. How long will it 
take you to bring a company of soldiers from Fort Jackson and 
put out mv tenants? 

Al. Why, I haven’t got as far as Fort Jackson yet. We 
were not to start till this evening. 

Row. Well, just start at once, and bring your troops over, 
won’t you? I want this town blown to the devil. 

Al. Why, I thought this place was your property. 

Row. And can’t I do what I like with my property? Blow 
it to the devil. I’ll stand the loss. 

Al. What’s the trouble? I like the place. I’ve just seen 
the prettiest girl you can imagine. A backwoods Yen us, lovely, 
young, delicate. Miss Columbia and I met her down by the post 
office. A perfect Venus. 

Row. Don’t talk to me of Yenuses. I want Marseses, the 
gods of war. Alleyn, there’s a Vigilance Committee here and 
they’re going to — 

Al. Not harm you or Smith? 

Row. No. To turn some poor devils out. 

Al. Oh, that’s nothing; they’re always doing that. 

Row. But I won’t have it on my property. Won’t you stand 
up with me and stop it? 

Al. We two against a hundred — nonsense. 

Row. Then you won’t — 

Al. [Looking off, l.] Sh! . Yonder comes the girl I spoke of. 

Row. [Down stage, angry.~\ Hang the girls. A man is no 
use to the community till he’s mariied. 

Al. There she goes with Miss Columbia. What a charming 
step ! Smith, just look. 

Mr. S. Ah, yes! Miss Bowse, monstrous fine girl. 

Al. No, the other! 

Mr. 8. Ah, yes, so she is! Introduce me! 

Al. [ Taking his arm , impetuously.^ Come along, we’ll meet 
them; hurry up; she may turn off' into some of the houses. 
[Exit, dragging Mr. /$.] 

Row. Here, don’t go off! What the deuce were girls ever 
made for? Who’d have thought there’d be a girl out here 
to turn a chap’s head. [/Sees Indian asleep.~\ There’s one of the 
poor devils the committee’s after. He’ll be shot while he’s drunk 
and never know it. [Touches Indian with his foof] Hi! you! 


HORIZON. 


23 


Indian ! Wake up and let me scare you to death! [Wan. 
jumps up and confronts Row., who jumps hack.'] Hello! that’s 
early rising. What kind of whiskey do you drink to freshen up 
so quick after it? 

Wannemucka. Injun no drink whiskey. Stranger think Wan- 
nemucka drunk? 

How. It looked like it. What did you say your name was? 

Wan. Wannemucka! Wannemucka chief! Big chief! Tribe 
far away! Down there — sunset! 

Row. If your tribe’s down by the sunset, they’re luckier 
than you are. 

Wan. Wannemucka safe. Ugh! . White man think injun 
sleep. White man talk — injun’s nose [Imitates snore.] asleep, 
injun’s eyes [Closing them.] asleep, but injun’s ears awake. 

Row. Oh, you’ve been playing possum and listening. Then 
you’ve overheard them. Why don’t you run for your life? 

Wan. Wannemucka, no fear. [Shows dirk.] Wannemucka 
got this. 

Row. Oh, you mean to fight for it, eh? But they’ll kill you 
if you resist. 

Wan. [ Goes to hush behind express office, shows rifle , which he 
replaces .] Wannemucka not go alone. 

Row. You want to go with the sots and blacklegs, eh? Don’t, 
injun ; go back to your tribe in decent company. 

Wan. [Stealthily approaching.] White stranger ever love ? 

Row. Did I ever love? Not much, or if I ever did, it’s gone 
clear out of my head. What of it ? 

Wan. Wannemucka love! She here! Wannemucka take 
her, or never go back to his tribe again. 

Row. The deuce. Some squaw of yours here, eh? More 
girls! Even the injun won’t save his own bacon, but risks it for 
a girl. Well, you’re a plucky bird anyway. I wish you joy and 
well out. There’s my hand. [Wan. takes it reluctantly , and 
then, drawing near, fingers Row’s chain.] 

Wan. Ugh ! nice ! 

Row. You like it, eh? 

Wan. Heap o’ skins to buy that ? 

Row. Yes, injun, it would take considerable coon skins to 
reach. 

Wan. Injun like it ! Injun want it ! 

Row. [Draws back, takes revolver from pocket.] Stand back ! 
Do you want to rob me, you unsophisticated redman ? 

Wan. No. Injun play for it. 

Row. Play for it ? 

Wan. Poker! [ Takes greasy pack of cards from his pocket 
and shuffles them.] 


24 


HORIZON. 


j Row. Moses in the bulrushes ! Who’d have thought of this 
romantic injun sporting a deck and offering to play poker. My 
feelings are hurt. If you had offered to scalp me, you red rascal, 
1 might have forgiven you. But poker ! That knocks the ro- 
mance, and I despise you ! 

Loder, who has entered at l. u..e. at “ My feelings are hurt” and 
carelessly looked on , now comes down , L. 

Loder. \_To Bow.'] You won’t take a hand then, stranger? 
[Laughs and sits on back of chair at L., pulls out a pencil , com- 
mences to whittle it.] 

Wan. Ugh! White panther here! [Puts up cards.] 

Bow. Take a hand? I’m sorry I shook hands with him. 
I’d rather have seen him carry a tomahawk than a pack of cards. 

Lod. That’s civilization, my friend ! When the noble savage 
was in his native state, he went for the hair of your head. Now 
he’s in the midst of civilization, he carries the weapons of en- 
lightenment, and goes for the money in your pocket. 

Bow. I’m sorry for it. I don’t want things so progressive on 
my lands. 

Lod. P’raps not. But it’s just as well you didn’t play with 
him. Injun is a prime hand at poker. You can’t beat him. 
Why he almost comes up to me. [Bises, crosses to Wan.] Don’t 
you, injun? [Wan. grunts.] 

Bow. And who may you be? 

Lod. Me? Oh, I’m no account. I travel. 

Bow. Oh, a traveller ! 

Lod. You’ve put it right. My business is to leave. I’m an 
outpost of progress! I open up the great West to the march of 
mind. When things get settled about me, I go on! [Wan. 
plucks his sleeve.] Eh? What’s up? 

Wan. Something to tell. 

Bow. [ Curious.] Eh ? 

Lod. [To Bow.] I reckon your friends are looking for you. 

Bow. Eh? 

Lod. [ To Bow.] I reckon your friends are looking for you. 

Bow. Eh? 

Lod. [ Coolly.] I reckon your train’s about to start. 

Bow. My train ? 

Lod. [Sternly.] I reckon you are staying here to mix up in 
domestic secrets, and worry my mind. Your train’s waiting. 
Get aboard ! 

Bow. Oh, you want me to go! Why didn’t you say so? 
Well, for a new country which belongs to me, and inhabited by 


HORIZON. 


25 


people who don’t pay me any rent, this is the most impudent — 
[Lod. points for him to go .] Oh ! This town will certainly have 
to be blown to the devil. [ Off into hotels] 

Lod. [ Whittling .] Now, Injun, what is it? 

Wan. ’Sh ! [ Points to Vigilance Committee room. ] 

Lod. Well! 

Wan. Committee ! 

Lod. Vigilance? [Wan. nods.] How do you know ? 

Wan. Injun sleep there! Crowd! Talk much! Must go, 
or — [ Imitates hanging .] 

Lod. So soon, and only here four months. [ Puts up knife , 
puts 'pencil away calmly. ] And no money to speak of. Just get- 
ting into luck too. .Well, if I must, I must. So I’m the marked 
man ? - * 

Wan. Injun, too ! 

Lod. You? You poor, pitiful sneak! Turn you out ! It’s 
a damned disgrace to John Loder to be walked out of a town with 
a greasy injun ! 

Wan. More ! Old man ! [. Points to wall at hack.] 

Lod. [j Excited.'] What! Wolf and his daughter ? 

Wan. All go ! 

Lod. [ Deeply moved. ] She ! By the— it will kill her ! What 
has she done? But what the devil am I standing here for? 
Come! [ Excitedly. ] In with me. We must wake him. We 
must agree upon some plan. Come! \_Rushes to the door in 
wait.’] Oh, the cursed wretches! [. Looking hack at Vigilance 
Committee's house.] If I ! — Oh, get in, and don’t waste time. 
[Pushes * Wan. and exits after him.'] 

Alleyn and Med enter; he carries her little basket. 

Med. This is as far as I go. 

Alleyn. I wish — I wish it were a mile further. 

Med. A mile further, and I so tired ! 

Al. Pardon me, I didn’t think of that. I was only thinking 
of the pleasure to myself. 

Med. And why would you be so pleased ? Though I used to 
love to walk, to run, to play all day in the woods. 

Al. Won’t you sit down ? Just for. a moment ! Bight here. 
I love to hear you talk. [He gently presses her to sit on seat , r. c.] 
You are a real backwoods girl, aint you? 

Med. And you are from the city ? 

Al. Yes! Ever so far away. 

Med. It is beautiful in the cities where you come from — is it 
not? 


26 


HORIZON. 


Al. Very. Wouldn’t you like to leave such life as this, and 
go to the splendid city ? 

Med. Yes, and I will too, if I live. 

Al. If you live? 

Med. Yes ! Didn’t I tell you ? No, I told her. They say 
I’m very sick. 

Al. You look delicate and pale — but a little rest, a little 
care — why don’t you see the doctor? 

Med. We never have doctors come out here. But there are 
agents always travelling about with patent medicines. [. Laughs .] 
Oh, it was so funny to see the settlers, big fellows, six feet high, 
who never knew what it was to be sick, coming into father’s 
cabin with big bottles and little bottles, that cured everything — 
so the agent said — and making me try tlfem all. I think they 
made me worse, don’t you? 

Al. beside Med.] But, now — surely you are not ill 

now ? 

Med. No, I do not suffer now ; but the feeling is like — as if 
the struggle were over. 

Al. Oh, if I could only do something for you! 

Med. Yes, that’s what they all say. 

Al. Who are all? 

Med. Oh, everybody ! That is, some particular ones. 

Al. Who are they? Not lovers ! [Med nods , and plays with 
his buttonhole.'] Lovers! You! Why you are only a little 
girl ! 

Med. Aint I big enough to love ? 

Al. Yes, now. 

Med. And I suppose yesterday I wasn’t? Oh, that’s not 
true. I’ve had so many. Everywhere we went, father and I, 
somebody was sure to say : “ I love you.” 

Al. And you — what did you say ? 

Med. Oh, your necktie is all loose. 

Al. No, no! Tell me what you said? 

Med. Let me fix the necktie first. 

Al. Yes, on condition that you tell me. [Med ties it while 
he speaks.] What did you say when they told you they loved 
you ? 

Med. I said — I said : “ I love you, too.” 

Al. [Vexed.] You did? [About to rise.] Well, you shan’t 
fix my necktie any more. 

Med. [Pulling him down again.] Nonsense! Let me fix the 
necktie. 

Al. [Pause, then looking up into her eyes.] Do you know, 
you’re a little witch ? 


HORIZON. 27 

Med. [Rises and goes down stage.'] No ! Witches never get 
sick. 

Al. When I get to Fort Jackson, I’ll send the surgeon over 
to see you. 

Med. [Archly.] I don’t want to see the surgeon. 

Al. [ Quickly.] I’ll come with him. 

Med. No, indeed, Mr. Assurance, I didn’t mean that. But 
will you come to see Meddie, truly ? 

Al. Meddie? What an odd name! What does it mean? 
Med. Why it means me. 

Al. Then it’s just the name you ought to have. 

Med. But will you come — truly — ever so truly ? 

Al. Yes, indeed, I will. 

Med. And when are you going away ? 

Al. This very day. [Looking at watch , crosses r.] By 
George, within half an hour ! [Starts up.] The guides and horses 
are waiting for me. 

Med. [Ah'ses.] And the pretty lady who is coming yonder — 
is she going with you ? 

Al. Oh, no ! She and her father, and the tall gentleman are 
going to take the boat down the Big Bun Biver, to explore his 
grant. 

Med. I know the river. Wannemucka’s tribe belongs there. 
Only think, an Indian loved me, wanted me to be a princess. 
[Laughs.] I didn’t tell him I loved him. I told Loder, and 
Loder knocked him down. 

Al. What perils surround you, poor little thing ! 

Med. I’m so glad the pretty lady is not going with you. 

Al. Why? 

Med. Because ! 

Al. Nothing could make me ever forget Meddie. 

Med. You are sure. 

Al. I know it as I know — 

Puts his arm about her waist , when Columbia and Mr. Smith 
enter, l. 1 e. 

Med. Oh ! [Runs up and disappears through gate in wall. 
Al. does not see where she goes to in his confusion.] 

Columbia. Oh, Captain ! Caught you in the very act. 

Mr. Smith. Yes ! Very act of besieging the fortress of 
Beauty. 

Col. Yes ! The very act of throwing the lines of circumval- 
lation around her waist. 

Mr. S. Where did she go to ? 


28 


HORIZON. 


Col. Must have run down the street. 

Al. [ Aside .] Gone ! But I can run over from the Fort and 
see her, and I will, if I have to — 

Col. Oh, Captain, don’t be so silent. I knew you were struck 
by her, as soon as we met her. And that was the reason I took 
the Honorable Mr. Smith around the settlement, while you had 
a chance to chat with her. 

Al. You were really so good and amiable to — 

Col. To get out of the w£y and leave you two alone? 

Al. Oh, I don’t mean that! But she really is a charming, 
original, little thing, just the little angel to — 

Col. To chat with once, and then forget. Nonsense! A puny, 
sickly, ignorant little backwoods girl ! I’m astonished at you ! 
Come ! To Fort Jackson ! There’s your guide, now. 

Enter Guide, l. u. e., 

Guide. The horses are saddled, Captain. We only wait for 
you. 

Al. Baggage all right? 

Guide. Yes, sir! Mr. Bowse is down by the Tree Tavern, 
waiting for you. We’ll have to start soon, to get over the ford 
before dark. 

Al. [Crosses.] Then I’m off. * 

Mr. S. [To Col.] We’ll see him off, eh ? 

Col. Certainly. We’ll see you safe out of here, for fear any 
other original and charming little girls should detain you. 

Al. Ah ! Spare me this time. It’s my first and only flirta- 
tion. Perhaps I shall never see her again. 

Col. Oh, how solemn ! 

Mr. S. By Jove, it’s heartrending! [Laugh, and take him 
off between them, l. u. e.] 

Loder enters from the gate, pulliiig Wolf. His daughter, Med- 
die, follows, clinging to him in fear. After a while Wanne- 
mucka follows them out moodily. 

Loder. [As he enters .] I tell you, governor, it’s neck or no- 
thing. The town’s up, and we’ve got to go ! 

Wolf. [Staring about him:] Go ! [ Vacantly.] Where ? 

Med. Oh, anywhere from this dreadful danger. Father, 
father, do try and think. Rouse yourself! Do try and under- 
stand our peril. 

Wolf. Ps’h! My throat’s as hot! — Have you got a drop in 
your flask, Loder ? 


HORIZON. 29 

Lod. Don’t think of liquor now, governor*. Brace up ! Be 
a man ! 

Wolf. I’m past it. I’m a gone body, Loder. I feel it here 
[/lead] and here [heart]. Nothing in me. Let ’em kill, curse 
’em. I’ve travelled thousands of miles, like a madman, for years. 
Perhaps I’ll get a madman’s rest now. [Points to ground.] The 
grave ! 

Lod. If you can’t take care of yourself, think of your daugh- 
ter ! If you stop here, they’ll shoot you, maybe. I’ve tried the 
obstinate dodge, and nearly squalled for it. If you’re dead, what 
becomes of her ? 

Wolf. Margaret! Meddie! Dear little Med! You won’t 
leave me ? 

Med. Never, father, while I live. You will go with us. It 
may not be far. We may find another and kinder settlement; 
if not, we can go to the Fort. 

Wolf. I’ll not budge a foot. I’m a desperate man, and I’ll 
dare ’em to do their worst. 

Lod. And your daughter? You told me often that you loved 
her. You won’t trust her to strangers? 

Wolf. You coward ! You’ll desert us, will you? 

Lod. Look here, governor, I’m not a coward when I have a 
show. But I don’t fight mobs. Besides, I’m tired of this place. 
It’s getting too civilized for me. When civilization steps in, it’s 
time for John Loder to make a move higher up. I mean to put 
for some infant settlement a little nearer the Horizon, and give it 
a lift. [ Goes up , r.] 

W olf. Go then ! Back out ! Leave us ! 

Wannemucka. [Coming forward.] Wannemucka friend ! No 
leave old Wolf to die by the dogs. Injun honest! Take care 
of young white girl. [Lod. starts, looks around.] 

Wolf. You ! Trust my child to you ! 

Wan. Indian honest! [Lod. regards him coolly.] Wanne- 
mucka chief of tribes. Take white maiden there. Be a princess. 

Med. [Terrified.] Oh, father! [Clinging to Wolf] 

Wolf. You copper-colored scoundrel! You dare to think of 
my daughter — a lady — [Strikes him.] 

Med. Oh, father, don’t! Let us fly together! Oh, Heaven, 
what will become of me ? 

Lod. [Approaching.] Whatever happens, little girl, no harm 
shall come to you, while I have breath and blood to spend. 
[Noise of voices and mob heard.] Come, old man, will you start? 

Wolf. No! 

Lod. Then put your girl in the house before the pack is 
on us. 




30 


HORIZON. 


Wolf. Take her! 

Med. Oh, bring him with us ! [ To hod . ] Do not leave him ! 

hod. Don’t fear, I’ll do what I can. 

Stage growing darker. Voices heard nearer. Lod. leads Med to 
gate , she exits, he closes it. Voices louder. Windows of the 
newspaper office open , and the heads of Scott, of Scott Canon , 
and others of the Committee, appear. Mob enters, R. u. E., 
headed by Blakely, Mackenzie, etc. 

Blakely. [As he enters.'] Here they are, all together ! Bring 
along the other scamp! \_The other, Chinee, is thrust forward 
among exiles.] 


Mob. 

Mob. Mac. Loder. 

Mob. Blak. Wolf. Chinee. 

Scott. \_At Window.] Wan. 

Bight. Left. 

Scott. [As crowd yell.] Gentlemen, order ! Order ! 

Blak. Silence, boys — for the Committee. 

Scott. Gentlemen, the Committee has decided. 

Mackenzie. Three cheers for the Committee ! 

Scott. [Puts on glasses, reads from paper.] The Committee 
having proceeded according to law and the traditions of the Bor- 
der, have found the following persons guilty of the following 
crimes: [Turning to another leaning over him.] Colonel, will 
you jest oblige me by moving your everlasting elbow out of my 
back ! [Resumes reading.] John Loder, gambler and fighter ! 

Blak. Stand out, Loder ! 

hod. Anything to oblige, Judge ! I say, Scotty ! 

Scott. Well! [hooks down.] 

hod. You couldn’t give me a reference to the next place, 
could you? [Mob laugh and shout: “ Good boy!” “ Game!”] 

Blak. Order ! Order ! 

Scott. Wolf Van Dorp, drunkard, gambler, and nuisance 
generally ! 

Wolf. [Rousing up.] Stop ! What name was that ? 

Scott. Your own name, I reckon. 

Wolf. It’s a lie ! Strike it out ! 

Scott. Not while the evidence is before the Court. [Packet is 
handed him from inside.] A bundle of old letters, newspaper 
cuttings, etc., found in your house. 


HORIZON. 


31 


Wolf. You’ve robbed my house, you thieves ! 

Scott. I reckon we took an everlasting squint about your 
premises, while you were drunk last night, and found it. But 
the Court’s done with it. You may take it. [ Flings it out. 
W olf grasps it eagerly , looks over it, then puts it in Lod.’s hand , 
and whispers to him.'] 

Scott. Wannemucka, Indian, gambler and horse-thief, as the 
Committee suspects ! [Wan./oMs his blanket and grunts.] Chinee, 
heathen and mean-spirited furriner ! 

Chinee. Me? No, Melican, me no bad! Love Melican ! 
Work — no play — no gamble — no drunk — q>oor, Chinee man ! 

Scott. Judge, will you give that critter an all-fired squelcher ! 
[Blak. attends to Chinee.] The sentence of the Committee is, 
that the aforesaid persons, all and singular, git up and git out of 
this settlement within thirty calendar minutes from the reading 
of this verdict. [The mob cry o%t and menace the group. Scott 
folds up paper.] What do the prisoners at the bar say? 

Lod. Gentlemen, for my part, I always bow to the will of 
the people. The population having unanimously elected me to 
represent them in some other settlement, I beg leave to thank 
them, and gracefully retire. 

Wolf. [ Whispers to him.] Don’t fail me, lad ! That packet 
to Med. In your charge I leave her, remember ! 

Lod. Trust me ! [ Bows to mob.] Gentlemen, good evening ! 

[Exit, l. u. E.] 

Wan. [ Who had listened.] Injun remember, too. [Aloud^] 
Palefaces! Wannemucka glad to go to his tribe! off, l., 

and during the ensuing scene creeps back stealthily and takes his 
rifle, then goes off behind houses, R. u. e.] 

Scott. Clean out the rest. [ The Chinee is hustled out, l. u. e., 
and the crowd return to seize Wolf. 

Wolf. One moment! [All stop.] You may kill me, but I 
don’t go ! 

Crowd. Hang him! Hang him! 

Wolf. Well, you can’t hang me but once! 

The mob rush at him with a yell. One of them, Mac., makes a 
noose, when Bowse enters, and interferes. 

Bowse. Stop, you fellows! Am I in time? No one hung up 
yet, I hope ? 

Scott. Who’s this? 

Bow. I’m the landlord here, and I want to know, who gives 
notice to quit, while I’m about? 

Blak. [To Scott.] He’s crazy! 


32 


HORIZON. 


Scott. Then clean him out! [. Mob advances.'] 

Row. [Draws a pair of revolvers , crowd halts.] I thought not. 
Now fellow-citizens, listen to me. What are you going to do 
with this old man? 

Scott. He’s been ordered to leave and he won’t. 

Row. Well, what then? 

Mac. Then he must be strung up. 

Row. [Shaking hands.] Oh, how are you again, neighbor. 
[Crowd murmur.] You won’t hang him till he’s tried, will you? 
The committee, as far as I can get at it, only agreed to turn him 
out. He must be tried before he’s sentenced to be hung, mustn’t 
he? [Mob murmur.] 

Scott. That’s so, gentlemen. The stranger’s correct; we must 
try him for refusing to go. 

Row. [Takes off his hat , puts it on ground, and mounts chair 
on stand, l.] Fellow-citizens : Let us not be irregular, let us not 
proceed to mob law, let us give the prisoner at the bar a fair 
shake before he steps out on the rope-walk and misses his footing 
in the circumn ambient air; is that law? [Mob assent among 
themselves.] 

Scott. [Blandly.] I beg pardon. What is the gentleman’s 
name? 

Row. [Blandly.] Rowse! Sundown Rowse, of Washington, 
District of Columbia ! 

Scott. [To mob.] Gentlemen, allow me to introduce Mr. 
Rowse, of Washington. Mr. Mayor, a glass of water for the 
speaker. [ Canteens, bottles and flasks passed to Row.] 

Row. Thanks! Gentlemen, we are here proceeding accord- 
ing to law. Not the musty statutes of effete systems and oli- 
garchies of the Old World, but the natural law implanted in 
the bosoms of man since our common ancestors were washed, 
wrung out and hung up to dry by the universal flood. 

Mob. Hear ! hear ! Go in ! [Scott and committee clap their 
hands.] 

Row. What do I find? I find the public characters of the 
town are called upon to do justice to their fellow-man. In such 
cases, in my experience, it is not uncommon to ask any promi- 
nent citizen from another, and friendly settlement, Washington 
or New York, for instance, to meet with the committee and form 
a general High Commission to settle all disputed points. Am I 
right, or am I not? 

Scott. [ Who during the proceeding has consulted with the com- 
mittee.] Mr. Rowse is correct. Such has been generally the 
practice. The committee respectfully invite Mr. Rowse to step 
up and jine the deliberations. [All applaud, Row. is handed 
down, his hat is given him and is escorted to door, l.] 


HORIZON. 


33 


Row. Thanks! fellow-citizens! Thanks! 

Scott. The committee also invite all citizens to keep their 
feelins suppressed for ten calendar minutes longer, while the de- 
liberations is going on. [. Disappears . ] 

Blak. All right, governor! Boys come in and see what old 
Tennessee Rocks has got. [ Shout from crowd, who press forward 
and exit into hotel] 

Wolf. \Alone and eagerly.] They mean to do their worst. 
Life is precious after all. [ Picks up a flask which one of the 
crowd has dropped and drinks.] It gives me new courage. I 
am not too late. I can yet fly with my child. 

Runs eagerly up to gate. Shot heard from behind, R. Wolf 
falls. Wannemucka appears, throws gun down near body, 
jumps up on shed. 

Wannemucka. Now injun have white princess! 

Loder and Med appear at gateway. 

Loder. You red devil! Come and take her! 

The mob rush from hotel, l. The committee and Rowse appear 
at windows, R. 


Curtain. 


\ 


\ 


34 


HORIZON. 


ACT III. 

Scene 1 . — The stage represents the head of flatboat navigation on 
Big Run. Fort Jackson is supposed to be situated here, and 
on the R., up stage, a low, one story store shed projects, sur- 
mounted by a flagstaff and colors flying. The bank of the 
river extends from r. to l. At back is a view of wild country, 
through which the Big Run winds its course. A flatboat is 
moored in the stream, a little to the R., and is approached by 
a sort of gang-plank from the bank. The time is afternoon. 
The curtain rises upon a scene of bustle. 

Sergeant Crocket is directing soldiers, who are loading 
the boat with bags, barrels and bundles from shed, r., and 
Cephas and other darkies are loading it with wood from l. 
Ceph. carries a single, very small log for each load, singing or 
whistling with each trip. The Heathen Chinee, Blakely 
and W ahcotah are playing cards on the ground by l. lower 
entrance. A sentry is on duty at back on bank, from c. to L., 
and off. The curtain rises to a chorus of the darkies loading up. 

Cephas and Darkies : — 

“ I’m proud to be in the service of the Lord, 

And I’m bound to die in his army.” 

As darkies go off for another load, Ceph. comes down and leans 
on his stick of wood, looking over the group of card players. 

Ceph. Hi! dars de way dera trash has of musin’ dereselves. 
[To Chinee.\ Hi! you, play de ace, you cussed fool. 

Blakely, Play the ace? Why, not him! He’s tried five aces 
on us already. 

Chinee. Me no understand! 

Blak. Don’t understand, eh? Well, what you don't under- 
stand would furnish brains for a mosquito. 

Ceph. Hi! golly! Chinee wipe nigger out, eh? 

Blak. Well, for “Ways that are dark and for tricks that are 
vain.” Why he’s won all my terbacker already! Ain’t you, 
Chinee? 

Chinee. Me poor chap! No understand Melican. [Sudden 
grab at trick Blak. is about to take.'] Mine, Melican ! 


HORIZON. 


35 


Wahcotah. [ Throwing down his cards.'] Ugh ! Cheatee ! 
Blak. [. Drawing a dirk.] That’s the sixth ace in this hand ; 
let me go for that heathen. [Chinee starts up, runs towards 
shed. Blak. after him, stopped by Ser.] 

Sergeant. Come! none of that! Let this poor devil alone. 
Get aboard with you! [Blak. goes off muttering into boat.] 
Come, African, lively with that wood there. 

Ceph. All right, massa serjiant. [Sings as he goes off into 
boat:] 

“I’m proud to live in the service of the Lord, 

And I’m bound to die in his army.” 

Mr. Smith enters from l., looking back. He is dressed in Western 
prairie fashion, but with silk hat , gun and bag. 

Mr. Smith. Yes! This way! come along. 

Widow Mullins. [Outside.] Heaven bless your honor, that’s 
what I say. 

Widow Mullins enters, followed by a young girl, her daughter, 
and a little girl, from l. u. e. 

Ser. Well, Honorable, what sort of game is that you’ve got? 
Columbia appears on boat. 

Mr. S. Game! Yes! you know — oh! there Miss Columbia! 
By Jove — good morning! 

Columbia. Good morning! Here, you boys, give me a hand. 
Soldiers. That we will, Miss! [Ceph. again comes. Two 
men run forward and help her across gang-plank.] 

Col. Thanks! [Comes down, c., and confronts Widow and 
others all laden with packs on their backs.] Mercy, who are these? 
Ser. You must ask the Honorable, miss, he brought ’em in. 
Widow. Faith, an’ he did — long life to him and more whiskers 
if he wants ’em. 

Col. Irish! Irish out here? 

Wid. Irish ! out here ; faix, ma’am, an’ did iver ye go any- 
where you didn’t see the Irish? 

Mr. S. Yas! I was surprised myself. You see I was out 
trying to start some game, aud all in a minute ‘I came out on the 
place, about three miles yonder, where these poor people live. 

Ser. Oh, you are the Mullinses? 

Wid. Yis! We are the Mullinses! This is my daughter 
Rhody, ma’am, an’ this is Molly, sir! and we were sitting by ou 


36 


HORIZON. 


house — more by token, it was no house at all, seein’ it had been 
knocked over by the Indians — crying our eyes out, whin this 
gentleman come up — 

j Rhody. Thrue for ye, mother. 

Col. Your house knocked over? 

Ser. By the Indians? When? 

Mr. S. Last night, they told me. 

Rhod. Thrue for ye, sir ! 

Col. Must be the same party Capt. Alleyn has gone after 
with pa! I hope they’ll catch ’em, the red ugly things. 

Mr. S. When did they go? 

Col. Just after you left this morning. A scout ran in and 
told the captain about a party of Indians who had been seen in 
force along the river. 

Mr. S. Then, by Jove, I’ve had a narrow escape. It’s well I 
came back so early with these poor people. 

Wid. It’s well ye did, sir, for if the Indians got ye, they’d 
make elegant work of that fine head of hair of yours. 

Mr. S. By Jove, they might have scalped my whiskers. 

Rhod. Thrue for ye, sir! 

Col. But why did the Indians attack you ? 

Wid. [Wah. listens quietly.'] Faith, they were looking for 
fire arms and ’munition, they said. An’ whin I tould ’em I was 
only a poor widdy and my husband was dead wid the chills and 
fever, and divil a gun we had, dey just knocked over the 
shanty and left us cryin’. 

Ser. How many were there? 

Wid. Faith, I was so worried I couldn’t see ; a thousand I’m 
thinking. 

Rhod. Sure, mother, there was only three. 

Wid. Now, Bhody, how can ye say dat? 

Rhod. I obsarved ’em and heard them speak of a larger party 
they were going to join. 

Ser. Ah ! They were scouts then. We’ll soon find out when 
the captain comes back. 

Rhod. [To Col.] Please, ma’am, can you tell us what we’re 
to do ? We’re got no home now, ’an sure we’re afraid to go back. 

Col. What do you want to do ? 

Wid. Sure, ma’am, we want to get near some settlement 
where we’ll be snug and safe. 

Col. We’re all going down the river this evening, about 
thirty miles to a settlement. We go in the boat there; would 
you like to come? 

Wid. Sure and that we would, ma’am. \_Distant gun heard.] 

Ser. [ Going up to boat.] That must be the captain now. 


HORIZON. 


37 


Col. Oh, there comes my pa, then ; I’ll get him to find room 
for you, and you shall go with us. 

Wid. Heaven bless ye, ma’am ! ] 

Rhod. Bless .ye, ma’am ! Thank the lady, Molly. } To 9 ether - 

Ser. \_On boat, looking off.] Yes, there’s the party. 

Mr. S. Any captive Indians? 

/S'er. No ! eh ? [. Looking off.] Something very odd. Mr. 

Bowse has got something. [Wah. interested.'] A dog, I think, 
is following at his heels. 

Mr . S. \_To Col.] By Jove, how odd ! I go to hunt buffaloes 
and bag an Irish family. And your father goes to capture In- 
dians and brings back a bow-wow ! 

Col. Oh, you amusing creature. But don’t you like this ex- 
citing life? Isn’t it romantic? Nothing but alarums, Indians, 
scouting and scalping — charming! 

Mr. S. Very! 

Col. So delicious. You go to bed at night and never know 
if you’ll ever get up to breakfast again. 

Mr.S. Yes. 

Col. To go and take a romantic walk by the side of a placid 
stream, expecting every moment to have your bonnet strings cut 
by a bullet — 

Mr. S. Delightful ! 

CoL Let’s go and take a walk. We have still time enough, 
before the boat will be ready to start. 

Mr. S. [Nervously.] Certainly ! with pleasure ! and if the 
Indians surprise us — 

Col. You will divert their attention — while I run back for 
help. 

Mr.S. Oh, ye-es! [Both exit, off n.] 

Alleyn and soldiers and darkey enter , l. Soldiers enter shed, r. 

Ser. [Salutes.] Captain ! 

Alleyn. No luck, so far, sergeant. We must have a party to 
scour the river bank to-night. It’s not safe to send the boat down 
unprotected. 

'Ser. Indians really about, sir ; this poor family were surprised 
last night by three scouts, and they spoke of a larger party. 

Al. We came on the trail of an Indian family, and found an 
old squaw with her child. The woman fled, leaving the infant. 

Ser. That’s what we saw with Mr. Bowse then, sir ! 

Al. [Laughing.] Yes, he seized the infant, not knowing 
what he was doing. She has clung to him ever since, and he’s 
rather annoyed at it. Where is the friendly Indian you spoke 
of this morning, who hangs about the fort ? 


38 


HORIZON. 


Ser. [ Coifs.] % Wah cotah ! 

Wah. [. Advancing .] Injun here! 

Al. What tribe is it that surprised this poor family? 

Wah. No tribe. No warriors, only boys. Indian boys love 
fun. 

Al. Are you sure? But the squaw and child were found to- 
day— 

Wah. Wahcotah not know. Many squaws. Many papoose.. 
[ Waves his hand to take in the whole country . ] 

Al. You are friendly to us, I understand? 

Wah. Yes! Injun friendly ! 

Al. Are there any warriors in this neighborhood? 

Wah. No! 

A l. It is safe for the boat to go down the stream to-night ? 

Wah. Safe ! 

AL All right then. \_To Ser.~\ We’ll send a double force 
out since this friendly Indian is so sure there is no danger. Is 
every one in? [Wah. retires .] 

Ser. All in but two, Captain. The young girl and that 
gambler chap from Rogue’s Rest. 

Al. The young girl. Where is she? 

Ser. Miss Rowse said they’d be back before night. 

Al. If they don’t, the boat must wait for them. 

Ser. Wait for them? They can easily overtake the boat. 

Al. A weak, delicate, little thing like that? 

Ser. No better than the rest of the lot I’m afraid, sir! 

Al. What do you mean? 

Ser. Why, she belongs to the worst crowd in the place. I’ve 
seen her often at Rogue’s Rest. You don’t know Western peo- 
ple, sir, like us old hands. 

Al. Perhaps not. But as for her I’d stake my life — ! Hem ! 
no matter. Look after the boat. [Ser. goes up . ] These fellows 
will laugh at me. [ Exits into shed, r.] 

Ser. The captain’s struck with her, sure. Well, he ain’t the 
first. I was that way myself when I saw her last, but hallo! 
[Looking off, l.] Here’s Rowse and his little injun sure enough. 

Music “ Little Indians.” Rowse enters in great confusion , fol- 
lowed by Notah clinging to his coat. Wah. watches. 

Rowse. Oh, bother, you young sarpint! get out. 

Notah. No — no — no — no! 

Row. You confounded little imp! What do you mean by 
hanging to me for ? I don’t want you. 

Not. Oona gow ga tcheka ! 


HORIZON. 


39 


Row. What ? 

Not. Oona gow ga tcheka — poo ! 

Row. Stop swearing! I wonder what she means by that? 
If she could only speak English, I might reason with her. I 
don’t know any Indian. What’s your name? 

Not. Oona gow ga tcheka ! Chun ge gah ! Bees mah ! 

Row. Bismarck ! It can’t be possible ! I say, why don’t you 
go home ? 

Not. [ Impatiently .] Ugh ! 

Row. Won’t you please go home to your family. I never was 
a mother, and I don’t know what to do for you. 

Not. [Same.] Ugh ! 

Ser. You’ve got a nice captive there, sir ! 

Row. [Child following.] I wish I hadn’t. I took hold of 
the little devil when her mother run away, just to look at her, 
when she caught hold of my coat-tail, and hasn’t let go since. 

Ser. [ To Not.'] Wont-ee come-ee to me-ee? 

Not. No — no — no — no ! 

Row. Oh no ! All of ’em have tried that. 

Ser. Here’s an Indian, sir, maybe he can tell you what she 
wants. 

Row. Eh ? Where is he ? Here you ! 

Wah. Injun here. 

Row. What’s this little red imp mean by hanging on to me 
in this way ? 

Wah. Little papoose belong to Wannemucka’s tribe. 

Row. I don’t know Wannemucka’s tribe, and I’m not an 
orphan asylum. Speak to her. [Wah. touches Not. on shoulder. 
She starts bach and clings to Row.] 

Not. Oona gow ga tcheka ! Chun ge gah ! 

Wah. She say — white father got her — white father keep her 
always. 

Row. The deuce she does ! 

Not. Looka nah ta poocha. No! 

Wah. She say her father big chief! 

Row. Then why don’t she go back to him ? 

Wah. Injun papoose cunning. You capture papoose. Big 
chief father come after you. 

Row. Eh ! 

Wah. She keep close to you — big chief know you took 
papoose. 

Row. And what then ? 

Wah. Big chief kill man steal his papoose. 

Row. Then she’s hanging on to my coat-tail so as to identify 
me as the right man for big chief to kill. \_Shakes Not. off.] 


40 


HORIZON. 


Here you, get off! Thunder and lightning, what a prospect! 
[ Walks about followed by Not.] I might as well have a death- 
warrant pinned to my back at once. I shall have to dye my 
hair and black my eyes — I mean my face — to avoid recognition. 
Let go, you little imp. [ Throws her to Ser., who holds her, 
lax 



Not. Ah chee mah poo da ! Ah chee ! Poo da ! 

Row. Just hear her swear! I havn’t the slightest doubt 
that’s very profane in the Cherokee language. 

Wah. Me take all trouble. Me take papoose, carry her back 
to tribe. White man safe den ! 

Row. Will you ? That’s a good fellow ! 

Wah. Come ! [ About to take Not.'] 

Ser. Not so fast. We can’t let her go ! 

Wah. No! 

Row. Why not? 

Ser. Not while the Indians are up and likely to give us 
trouble. You’ve made a lucky capture, Mr. Rowse. I think 
this is the child of some important chief. If so, we can hold her 
as a hostage, and it may save somebody’s life in the event of 
trouble. 

Row. So she may. I recollect that rascally Wannemucka 
tried to steal old Wolf’s daughter, and when Loder was too 
sharp for him, he slunk off, swearing he’d have her yet. We’ll 
block his domino with this little hostage. 

Wah. Me no have papoose? 

Row. [Crosses to Ao£.] Not till I get safe to Big Run settle- 
ment, and leave old Wolf’s daughter in safety. Then you can 
tell Big ChiSf to send me a receipt in full, and I’ll give him the 
chick. 

Wah. But papoose want to go home. 

Row. Does she? We’ll see. [To Wo£.] Hanky — panky — 
hickory — dickory ? 

Not. Me — ho — na — watee ! 

Row. She says she won’t go home till morning, and don’t 
want to be put in her little bed. Come along. [Row. exits into 
boat and down hatches , r. Ser. laughs and goes up, r. Wah. 
slinks off, l., and presently re-appears in the water, climbs into boat 
and goes below by opening, l.] 

Gentle Music. Med enters with little bundle , her hand on 
Loder’s shoulder. 

Med. See, we are here at last ! 

Loder. After a very hard day’s tramp for you, little girl. 


HORIZON. 


41 


Med. For me? Why you carried me across all the fords and 
almost over all the hills. I’m not tired. To-night we will be 
floating down the river with our friends, and by to-morrow 
we will be safe in another settlement. 

Lod. But your father’s last wishes — 

Med. [ Sinking on mound , l.] Poor father ! Not even a last 
word for me. 

Lod. You weep for him. Well, well, perhaps it was only be- 
cause he was your father. 

Med. Why, what do you mean ? 

Lod. I mean he didn’t do a father’s part to drag you — you, a 
lady — through the world like the child of a thief. 

Med. But he loved me, and so I cry for him. 

Lod. I won’t say another word agin him, princess ! I don’t 
know what fine feelings are, and so I’ll keep quiet. 

Med. Yes, you do! You’re kinder to me than anybody — 
aint you ? 

Lod. That’s why I want to take you home. 

Med. Home ? Where ? 

Lod. To New York. 

Med. Oh, yes, so you told me. All about that rich lady who 
is my mother, and who turned my poor dead father out of her 
house. 

Lod. [Taking packet of letters from his 'pocket.'] So these let- 
ters say. And a strange story it is. 

Med. Do you think my father’s daughter would ever enter 
that lady’s house, sit by her side, live in luxury and comfort, and 
yet dream every night of the far-off town where he was treated 
like a wild animal, shot down like a dog — and all her fault? 

Lod. But you are her daughter ! 

Med. And he was her husband. If I were married, and the 
man I promised to love were the greatest villain — [ Crosses to R.] 

Lod. [Eagerly.] You could love him ? 

Med. Pshaw ! I don’t know what I’m saying. [ Turning to 
him.] Promise me, you won’t speak of my mother again nor of 
taking me back to New York. 

Lod. Where will you go then ? 

Med. With you. Where you go. 

Lod. [Recoiling. J With me? 

Med. Can’t I go with you ? 

Lod. [Laughs.] Why I’m Panther. That’s what I’m called 
out here in this red wilderness. I can’t read nor 'write. I’m 
always up at knives’ point with some one or other! I’ve been 
shot at fifty times and turned out of three Territories by Vigi- 
lance Committees. 


42 


HORIZON. 


3/erf. I don’t mind that. Yon are the only friend I Have in 
all the world. 

Lod. I tell yon, girl, it can't be done! 

3/erf. Why not? 

Lod. Your father left yon to my care. 

3/erf. Then yon must take care of me. 

Lod. Yes. I can watch over yon day and night. If any- 
thing happened to yon, I should see ghosts. 

3/erf. And so, if you take care of me. yon can't fight, nor 
drink, nor go off with horrible men to gamble. Do yon love these 
things better than me ? 

Lod. Well no ! But I know something of the world. People 
would say I persuaded yon to stay with me. I tell yon. it's no 
use talking. Pm a scoundrel, and I must take yon to your 
mother. 

3/erf. If you were as bad as yon say, yon would not. I don't 
believe you. You were always good to me. I know yon used 
often to give father money, just when yon saw my dress was 
ragged and my feet were almost on the ground, so that he could 
buy things for me. Oh, I'm wiser than yon think, and I loved 
you for it. 

Lod. You loved! [Aside.] Oh. if I were only an honest 
man. But it’s getting too hot for you, Loder. Yon must rhink- 
of some damned rascally trick to stop this. If she would onlv 
fall in love with somebody who would marrv her and take her 
home! 

Med. What are yon thinking of? Me ? 

Zorf. [S6e leans apamst shoulder, clasps his arm.] Oh. ah. 
yes! [Aside.] FU pick out some decent chap. Seine young 
fellow who don't play cards. FU put her in his wav ; he's sure 
to love her : who could help it? 

3/erf. I never saw such a stupid, dull fellow as von are. 

Lod. [Crowing to R.] Me? Yes! [A.rfrfe.] 'ill keep out 
of her sight. 

3/erf. I do believe you hate me ! 

Lod. Hate you? 

3/erf. Then why don't you love me? I want somebodv to 
love me— now— poor papa is gone. on mcw»rf.] 

[Aeirfe.] Yes, that's how 111 fix it, and if a turns set 
well! if she falls in love with him [worerf] and marries r v. and 
goes back to >ew York with him! I'll see them sale off and 
blow my own worthless brains out comlbrtablv. 


HORIZON. 


43 


Alleyn entering from r. 

Alleyn. Almost time to start. [ Sees Med.'] Why, my little 
prairie flower! 

Med. [ Coquettishly nestling up to Lod.] Is that you ? 

Al. I have been so anxious about you. 

Lod. Who is this? 

Med. The young captain from New York. 

Lod. From New York? [Goes up .] 

Al. Who’s your suspicious looking friend? 

Med. He is my best — my only friend. 

Al. Oh! [ To Lod.] I say, are you going down in the boat? 

Lod. Well, if she goes down, I reckon I’ll go down with her. 

Al. Then you’d better jump aboard and be lively. [Ceph. 
and Blakely appear on boat, getting out poles. Lod. up l. c. 
Med. about to go.] Med ! [She draws back and looks towards 
Lod., he insists on her remaining.] Just one word, Med. I’m 
so happy to see you again. I’ve never stopped thinking of you 
since that day. [Takes her up r.] 

Lod. [Coming down L.] Curse his soft tongue! He’ll cap- 
ture her heart! Hallo! But that’s what I’ve been wanting! 
After all it’s a hard thing to stand. She said she loved me — 
and — ! Damn it, I’ll take my medicine like a man anyway. 
[ Goes up and on board and assists the boatmen.] 

Al. [Coming down with Med.] I’m not going on the boat 
with you, but I take a party of soldiers with me to guard its 
course for a few miles down the stream. 

Med. Oh ! I’m safe now. Panther will take care of me. 

Al. Panther? 

Med. Yes! You saw him just now. You don’t like him, 
but I do, and so good-bye ! 

Al. But Med — 

Med. [Running to boat.] Good-bye ! Good-bye ! [Runs to 
Lod.] 

Columbia and Mr. Smith enter , r. 

Columbia. Now, Honorable! [To Al.] Is papa on board? 

Al. Yes ! and everybody else except you and Smith. 

Col. Come, Honorable ! Take care of yourself Captain. 

Al. I’ll try to! [As she is going up the gang-plank, noise 
heard of Rowse’s voice.] 

Col. What’s that ? 


44 


HORIZON. 


Wahcotah appears with Notah at bow of boat , l., followed by 
Rowse, who snatches at Not. 

Bowse. No, you don’t, you red devil ! [Seizes Not. and kicks 
the Indian over upon bank.] 

Wahcotah. £ig chief on the trail! Wahcotah warn him! 
[Exit with a run off L.] 

Col. Why, pa! What have you got there? 

Al. What’s all this? 

Bow. No interference, Cap. I’ve got this young papoose in 
safe-keeping. She’s a policy of insurance on all our lives. All 
aboard ! [Col. is handed up by Mr. S.] Cast off! [Ser. and 
soldiers draw in gang-plank and draw it off, r.] Good-bye, Cap. 
[Blak. and Chinee and Ceph. commence to pole the boat off and 
the scene begins to change. Panorama of river. Scene begins 
to grow darker .] 

Bow. Be hearty now, boys. I guess I’ll go below and secure 
my captive. A piece of bread and butter will do the business. 
[Exits below.] 

* ^Al. Sergeant, get the men in line. Good night ! [ Goes off r.] 

Group on boat: Med., who had taken Col’s hand, sits in prow, l. 
with Mr. S. The top deck is occupied by boatmen. Lod. 
sits in stern, r. The group of Irish are central figures. 

Mr. Smith. It’s very romantic, ’pon honor! 

Col. [To Med.] Are you comfortable, dear? 

Widow. Faix, can any of ye’s give me a light? 

Cephas. Here you is, old lady. 


Rowse re-appearing. 


Bowse. 

Blakely. 


Come, boys, push her lively. 
All right, Cap. 


Song by Boatmen. 


The boatmen dance, the boatmen sing, 

The boatmen are up to everything. 

When the boatmen goes ashore, 

He spends his money and works for more. 
Dance. — The boatmen, etc. 

I never saw a pretty girl in all my life, 

But she was a boatmen’s wife, etc. 
Dance.— T he boatmen, etc. 


HORIZON. 45 

The Widow dances to this music and the song grows fainter as the 
panorama closes the scene and forms 


Scene 2. — A dense wood and dark night. Wahcotah moves in 
noiselessly from r. and through it as if through shrubbery , and 
looks about him. Two other Indians emerge from scene , l. The 
other song merges into music of a march , at first very faint. 

Wahcotah. Where is Wannemucka? 

Indian. Coming, river side ! \ Music of march more forte. 1 

Wah. Sh, soldiers ! 

The Indians glide back towards r. as the music grows louder and 

Alleyn, Sergeant and file of soldiers with rifles enter, r. 1 e. 

Alleyn. How far can we keep the boat in sight from this path? 

Sergeant. We can keep within three hundred feet of the river 
bank for at least twelve miles. 

Al. Can we keep up with the boat on foot? At what rate 
do they pole her down? 

Ser. They don’t pole the boat after they get into the open 
stream. The current takes them down about a mile, or a mile 
and a half an hour. 

Al. Oh, then it will be easy to keep up with it. 

Ser. We’re half a mile ahead of it now, besides there’ll be no 
fear of any attack to-night, Captain ! 

Al. I’m not an old Western campaigner, Sergeant, but it 
seems to me that your confidence upon that point doesn’t justify 
our neglecting any precautions. 

Ser. Of course not, Captain; but it does argufy that we 
needn’t creep through the woods all night at a snail’s pace when' 
we might push on, and keep the road clear by driving the Indians 
before us. 

Al. That’s sense. I suppose there’s no danger of their closing 
in our rear and attacking the boat. 

Ser. All the Injuns in the wackcinity are ahead of us, I’ll 
swear. 

Al. Well, we can push on then. [The chorus again heard 
faintly.'] Where did you sight the boat last? 

Ser. Drifting down behind us safe enough. There! don’t 
you hear ’em? 

Al. Sure enough! Well, come, my boys! On! March! 


46 


HORIZON. 


Music, march. All off \ l. Music fainter. Wannemucka en- 
ters, r. 1 e., after them. A pause. He throws himself on the 
ground. Wahcotah’s head appears through hushes, l.; they 
meet. 

Wannemucka. Little snake heard the white braves? 

Wahcotah. Much talk! White braves talk like Indian 
squaws ! 

Wan. Ugh! Boat? 

Wah. Boat full. Come slow! 

Wan. Who? 

Wah. Papoose ! Notah ! 

Wan. Ugh! Prairie Dog’s papoose! [ Other Indians creep 
through branches from r.] What white squaws on boat? 

Wah. Ugh! Wannemucka’s squaw! 

Wan. Mine! All mine! 

Wah. Panther with her ! 

Wan. [ Shows knife . ] Wannemucka knows where to strike 
White Panther! [Distant and faint sound of song heard, as if 
from boat.'] 

Wah. Boat come. Big chief strike now? 

Wan. Now! hist! Braves follow Wannemucka! Close! 
hist ! close ! Exeunt, 2 r. e. 

Singing still faint, but nearer. All the Indians off, l. The scene 
gradually begins to open and the dense forest to clear, dis- 
closing the moon , and then a large clearing through which is 
shown — : 


HORIZON. 


47 


Scene 3. — A narrow bend in the Big Run River. From the 
bank on extreme l., about 2 e., a blasted and fallen tree trunk 
stretches over to r., dipping the water near the fourth groove. 
Wannemucka and three Indians are concealed on this tree. 
W ahcotah and another are in the water near l. c. Other 
Indians concealed behind logs and trees. 

The song is heard more plainly. It is Med and Columbia 
singing , seated in the extreme bow of boat , alow and plaintive 
ballad. The boat gradually moves on from r. to L., passing 
beneath the fallen tree. Groups on boat same as before. All 
asleep. Rowse not in sight. Mr. Smith not in sight. As it 
approaches where Wahcotah lies concealed , he rises from the 
water and stops it , raising his body out of the water and grin- 
ning at the two girls. 

Med. Why, the boat has stopped. Wake, Loder! \_Turns 
and sees the Indian .] Ah ! [ Piercing scream and starts back.'] 

Wannemucka drops from branch of tree on deck and seizes Med 
and half raises her. Columbia rises in alarm on deck. W ah- 
cotah threatens her with hatchet. Rowse runs out of cabin to 
her aid. Loder springs up in alarm, as two more Indians 
drop down upon deck. They fall upon Cephas and Blakely, 
who roll over with them at back. 

Med. Help! help! 

Wannemucka. Come ! 

Loder. Indian, drop that girl ! 

Indian yell from all sides. Wan. draws dirk and runs at Lod. 
Widow seizes Med and holds her. Lod. seizes Wan., who 
bends him over the boat with the dirk at his throat. Bowse 
engages the Indians , who clamber up sides of boat , and fights 
them with a bag of meal. Lod. finally releases one hand , 
draws a Derringer and fires at Wan., who leaps up, staggers 
front and falls. The drum and sound of approaching soldiers 
heard as the — 


Curtain Falls. 


48 


HORIZON. 


ACT IV. 

Scene 1 . — A stockade or primitive fort in the prairie. Time — 
second day from the incidents of last act. The stage represents 
the interior of the stockade , or two sides of it, with the angle 
in c. All around it is the horizon. A closed shed, r. and l., 
within the stockade , beside the walls. Stakes of stockade about 
ten feet high. Gate, l. A clump of trees, R. u. stage 
outside. Rocks and bush growths, l. of stage outside. 

As curtain rises, several groups are formed inside stockade. 
Widow is cooking with pot swung on sticks over faggot fire 
and ladle in hand. Cephas watching and blowing the fire. 
Rhoda and Molly looking on. Soldiers here and, there in 
groups, outside stockade and inside, cleaning rifles. Columbia 
is walking up and down from r. to l. with Alleyn, his hat 
on her head coquettishly and carrying his sword. Blakely 
and Chinee looking over stockade at back. They come 
down presently and join Ceph. 

Columbia. Oh, you should have seen us ! 

Alleyn. Terrific, no doubt ! 

Col. I don’t know how many Indians we killed. 

Al. Yes, the enemy was so ashamed of the defeat that even 
the dead men disappeared. 

Col. But it’s no laughing matter. Indians right up to you 
in the dead of night! 

Widow. Faix, you may say that. ’An the diviltry of ’em 
wantin’ to run off wid de young creature. [Blak., Ceph. and 
Chinee make a dive at soup and are caught .] 

Al. If I once lay my sword on Wannemucka I’ll make an 
example of him to every amalgamationist in the territory. 

Col. So singular that he should be in love with Med. 

Al. Hem, very ! 

Col. You’d suppose now that he’d like a bold, brave woman, 
something like a princess. Med is so timid. I used to think I’d 
like to have an Indian brave fall in love with me — so romantic. 

Al. Set your cap for Wannemucka. 

Col. I mean a real noble savage, not a dirty, common Indian. 

Al. They’re all the same. 

Col. Somebody like Fennimore Cooper’s braves. 

Wid. Coopers, is it? Faix, all trades is alike, they’re all a 
dirty pack, and coopers is no better nor any of ’em. 


HORIZON. 


49 


Rowse enters, followed by Notah from gate, C. Not. has a news- 
paper cocked hat and rides a stick, but still holds on to Row’s 
coat, as usual. 

Rowse. Time to be stirring ! All’s safe! I’ve prospected for 
a quarter of a mile in every direction, and I’ve come to the con- 
clusion that this is the most desirable spot in the whole country 
for me to get up and clear out from, as fast, as possible. I shan’t 
lay the foundation of Rowseville, the future metropolis of the 
West, in this spot, I can tell you. 

Al. Then what direction shall we take? 

Row. Further in towards that little cluster of woods yonder, 
just on the stream. That’s the spot for Rowseville. 

Al. Then we must be getting ready. Sergeant ! [Ser. ad- 
vances.'] Have the men ready. We must push back to the bend 
and bring the teams up to carry the ladies and stores. [Ser. re- 
tires up to soldiers, who rise and file out of gate.] Mr. Rowse, will 
you stay here with the ladies, and act as guard till we return? 

Row. Certainly ! So will Loder. 

Al. No ! Loder, or whatever his name is, must go with us. 

Row. Why? Confound you, you young mosquito, do you 
want to strip me ? \_To Aot] 

Al. I have my suspicions about that Loder. Here he is. 

Loder enters at gate and looks around, then goes to shed, r., and 
sits. He carries a rifle, and is followed by Mr. Smith with 
another. 

Watch his eye. [Col. goes to meet Mr. S.] 

Row. Looks shot. Guess he’s been up all night playing 
poker with your men. 

Al. I tell you he’s a rascal. I’ve watched him when he’s 
been talking to — 

Row. To whom ? 

Al. Well, never mind. But he’s not to be trusted. [ Goes 
up and off among his men, looking suspiciously towards Lod.] 

Row. [To Col.] And how’s our little patient ? 

Col. She’s been sle aping in the hut there, all the morning. 
We made her as comfortable as we could with some of the Cap- 
tain’s army blankets. [ Goes into shed, r.] 

Row. Ah, that’s how Uncle Sam’s property is diverted from 
it’s proper use, is it ? 

Mr. Smith. [To Lod.] I say, old fellow, you ve been as dull 
as the deuce all day. 

4 


50 


HORIZON. 


Loder. Well, stranger, I’m sorry for that, it’s not my way 
always. 

Columbia re-appears, leading Med, very pale and languid. 

Lod. draws back. 

Columbia. Try a little walk. There’s no danger now. 

Med. I’m not afraid of the danger. 

Row. You’d face a dozen Injuns, if they dropped in now, 
wouldn’t you ? 

Col. Here, some of you men. Give her your arm, and let 
her take a little walk. [Lod. and Al. both start forward. Lod. 
catches Al.’s eye, and draws back.'] 

Al. Come with me. 

Med. It’s so good of you to mind me. But I don’t care to 
walk. 

Row. [ To Col.] C’lumby, I’m afraid those horrid red wretches 
have scared what little life there was in her out of her. 

Med. [ Walking to bench by shed, l.] You are going to leave 
us? 

Al. Only to send teams up to bring you down to the bend. 
\_They 

Row. [To Col.] Smitten, hey? 

Col. Yes, and it’s so romantic. 

Row. Well, just you fight as shy of that sort of nonsense as 
long as you can and not inconvenience yourself, and I’ll be just 
as glad as you can reckon. [ Off r., followed by Col. and Mr. S. 
Row. looks back just in time to catch them flirting; they all go off 
with a laugh.] 

Al. You don’t think I’d leave you in any danger. 

Med. I thought I should never see you again, when the In- 
dians attacked our boat. [Lod. crosses quietly at back and leans 
against upper end of shed, l., listening to conversation.] 

Al. The dangers all over now. Try and brighten a little. 

Med. For what ? 

Al. Don’t say for what? Say for whom ? 

Med. For whom, then? 

Al. For — [She looks at him.] For those who love you. 

Med. Everyone who loves me, leaves me. All, except one — 

Al. And he? 

Med. Poor Loder ! See, how faithful he is. 

Al. You love him, then ! [He rises. She rises, as if to re-as - 
sure him. Lod. makes a step forward. Al. tvCrns suddenly on 
Med and steals a kiss, she leans on his shoulder, and they turn to 
go up, when they confront Lod.] Well, sir ! [Sternly.] Are you 


HORIZON. 51 

preparing for the march ? [Med reproves him with a glance, and 
holds out her hand to Lod., who kisses if] 

Rowse re-enters, followed by Notah. As he comes on Row. turns 
around savagely to Not. 

Rowse. See here, I’ve had almost enough of this ! 

Mr. Smith and Columbia in doorway, r. 

Med. Oh, the little Indian. I’m afraid you’ve captured her 
heart, Mr. Rowse, and she’ll cling to you, for better or for worse. 

Row. Cling to me! I should think so! I’m afraid I’ll have 
to adopt her, unless some of you take her off my hands. Don’t 
you want -her, Alleyn? 

Al. I — for what ? [Med disengages herself \ and goes quietly 
to Lod., whose downcast look she has been watching. He leans 
against his gun , L.] 

Row. To bring her up as an Indian interpreter. 

Al. No, thank you. I’m afraid of the Big Chief. 

Row. Here, Smith, suppose you take her. 

Mr. Smith. Aw ! Where to ? 

Row. Back to England. She’ll be Pocahontas, and you’ll be 
Smith, just the very thing. 

Mr. S. I’d like to oblige, but I’m afraid she don’t deserve it. 
Pocahontas saved Smith’s life, but this little creature is likely to 
get us all killed. 

Widow. [ Coming from r.] Sure, the dinner’s ready. 

Row. Dinner ! That’s handy ! Come, lads ! [Ceph. and 
Chinee take pot from fire, as directed by Row., and all exit into 
hut.] 

Med. You look so cross. 

Lod. I’m not cross, girl. I’m sorry. 

Med. Sorry for what ? 

Lod. It’s a mean thing to confess, but I overheard you talk- 
ing with the young Captain. 

Med. Y ou heard us ? Where were you ? 

Lod. It was wrong, .wasn’t it? 

Med. Yes ! It was not like you. 

Lod. Yet I wouldn’t give away the memory of what I heard 
for my life itself. Only tell me, is it so ? 

Med . Is what so ? 

Lod. Don’t trifle, Med ! For God’s sake, don’t. I heard you 
speaking. 

Med. [ Bashfully .] Well! 


52 


HORIZON. 


Lod. You spoke of those who loved you — and of one — 

Med. That was you. 

Lod. Oh, if it should be so. I would die for you any day — 
or better than that, I would fight for you and work for you. You 
could make me an honest man. 

Med. I want to do that. You know I do. 

Lod. And he asked you if you loved me ? 

Med. [ Gladly looking at him , and putting her hand on his 
shoulder.'] And you heard — 

Lod. No, I heard no more. 

Med. I told him “yes!” I loved you as if you were a dear 
brother ! [Lod. looks at her stolidly.] And he seemed so pleased. 
And you are my brother, ain’t you ? And you shall always be. 
And that made him so happy, and then he told me that he loved 
me, not like a brother, you know— oh, far from that — 

Al. [Coming from r.] Well, Mr. Loder, time’s about up. 
We must leave the ladies here, until we return. 

Med. Oh, that will be soon ? 

Al. This evening, perhaps. 

Columbia. [In door, r.] Come, Med, have something to eat. 

Med. I’m coming. [To Al.] And you will be ever so care- 
ful of yourself, and not fight with the Indians, if you meet them? 

Al. No, I’ll stand up, and be shot. [Med laughs and runs 
off, r., with Col. Al. is about to go c.] 

Lod. Captain ! 

Al. Well, sir ! 

Lod. May I have a word with you ? 

Al. Many as you please, if you’re quick about it.. 

Lod. I’m not one of the drawling sort, stranger, and I say my 
mind in a few words. You love that girl ! 

Al. [Angrily.] What is that to you ? 

Lod. [Smothering his anger.] I beg pardon. Perhaps I was 
too plain — she tells me — 

Al. Then keep what you’re told to yourself. [About to go.] 

Lod. Captain ! 

Al. Hark ye, my friend, if you address me on that or any 
other subject again, I’ll have you left out on the prairie to look 
after the redskins alone, without any soldiers to protect you. 

Lod. Well, Captain, I’ve fought the redskins — and alone 
against odds— before now. I’m not a coward, if I am a — pshaw! 
I only want to say that the young girl yonder was left by her 
father to me — 

Al. Just what a drunken brute might do! And I suppose 
you consider you’ve a claim on her? 

Lod. Yes! [Al. laughs.] But not what you supposed. I 
joved her ! 


HORIZON. 


53 


Al. Oh, I’ve no objection. I shan’t interfere ! 

Lod. You mean to tell me you don’t love her yourself, then! 
Why you’ve just confessed it to her. 

Al. [ Annoyed .] She told you — 

Lod. Yes, and you’re ashamed of it. You think it good sport 
to fool a friendless creature like her. You’re deceiving her, and 
you know it ! 

Al. Whatever you please. 

Lod. Captain ! I beg pardon again if I’m insulting. But if 
you only knew all. If I thought you really loved her, I’d be 
content. 

Al. I’m much obliged, I’m sure. 

Lod. Another man who spoke to me as you speak, should 
fight me until one of us was stretched dead at the other’s feet. 
But she loves you, and I dare not harm you. If you will only 
say to me that you love her! I have one duty to perform, and 
then you will see me no more. A secret — 

Al. A secret! About Med? 

Lod. To the man who truly loves her, a secret worth the 
world full of gold. For it tells him she is worthy to be his wife. 
[Al. approaches Lod. ] Remember, it is to be told to one only — 
the man who is to be her husband. 

Al. Whatever your secret is, it is safe with me. 

Lod. But you will not answer me ! 

Al. Answer what? 

Lod. That you love Med ! 

Al. Well, then be answered, I do ! 

Lod. Come, then; on the road ask me what you will, and 
every information which this packet does not contain you shall 
have. [Shows Wolfs packet. ] 

Al. [Kindly.] My good fellow, I was hasty just now. I do 
love her; there’s my hand upon it. 

Lod. No, stranger, I can’t take your hand. If she had been 
poor like me, I’d have taken her far away to the wild West, to 
be mine, and mine only. I give her up now, as the fretful child 
must give up the star he sees so far above him. 

Al. I was going to take you with me, but now, that I can 
trust you, you shall stay here and watch over her till we return. 

Lod. No. I won’t be tempted. From this time I speak to 
her no more. She is to be the wife of an honest man and is to 
become a lady. I know what I am, and that she is too good for 
me. I’ll go with you. They are safe here. 

Al. As you will. On the road I will speak with you. 

Lod. [ Going.] On the road. 


54 


HORIZON. 


Med re-appearing at r. 

Med. Are you going ? 

Rowse, Columbia and Mr. Smith enter. 

Lod. Only a little way. 

Med. [ Gaily. ] Good-bye, then. 

Lod. [ Struggling with emotion.'] Good-bye! Good-bye! 
[ Off, L. C.] 

Bow. That fellow’s got the worst face I ever saw. 

Med. And the best heart that ever beat. [Goes to Al^] 

Mr. Smith. I understand he’s quite a scoundrel. 

Columbia. He looks like some member of Congress, whose 
name I forget, You know, pa! 

Bow. Yes ! That chap from Maine, that voted against my 
railroad bill. 

Al. Now we must be off. 

Bow. So I’m to stay and protect the ladies ? 

Mr. S. Yes ! take my gun, it’s double barrelled, both barrels 
loaded. [ Gives it.] 

Bow. I never fired one of these things in all my life. 

Cephas and Chinee come out from hut, r. 1 e. 

Al. Now, then, Sergeant — 

Ser. \_Outside.] Aye, aye, sir! 

Al. \_To Col.] Good-bye! [ To Med.] Until to-morrow, 
darling! Now for the road. [ All off to music. Col. climbs the 
stockade , waves her handkerchief. Row. in gateway. Med near 
Col. The soldiers and all men except Row. file off l. Widow 
and others waving them “ Good-bye.”] 

Bow. [ Coming down.] Hello! Where’s that little Indian 
of mine? [Wid. goes up to gate.] 

Col. I don’t know, perhaps she’s got into your pocket, pa! 
She’s been near it so long. 

Bow. That’s funny. I’ve taken such a fancy to her that — 

Widow. Shure, I saw the little crethur yonder running off 
towards the woods chasing the butterflies. 

Bow. [. Laying down gun, r.] Chasing fiddlesticks. We 
mustn’t let her get away or she’ll be bringing some stray Indians 
here on us. Which way did you see her go? 

Wid. Straight down to the gully forninst the wood. 

Bow. I’ll fetch her! [Goes off running, c. r.] 

Med. It’s not safe for him to go ! 


HORIZON. 


55 


Col. Oh, he’s got his gun. 

Wid. Faix, that he hasn’t. Shure, here it is. Rhody, dear, 
run — 

Med. Oh, yes, run— call him — take it to him. [Rhod. takes 
the gun and afterwards when the door is barred , she rests it against 
the barred door.'] 

Col. [Up to gate.] Pa! pal Oh, pshaw! he’s running so 
fast and he don’t hear. [Rhod. stops .] 

Med. [ Looking over the stockade.] He’s running down to the 
ravine. He should keep by the open. 

Col. Oh, pa’s wise. He know’s what he’s about. 

Wid. Shure, his wisdom wouldn’t amount to much if the red 
divils was about. 

Col. Pa’s a great boxer! Let him alone! [ Coming in.] 
Come down, you little canary. [To Med.] 

Med. [Looking off still to l.] Yes, in a moment! [Sunset 
begins.] 

Col. You don’t expect to see pa there , do you? 

Med. No, I was only — 

Col. You were only looking after somebody else. [Below, 
looks up at her.] 

Med. [Above, looks down at her.] No, indeed, I — 

Col. No fibs! Come down, I want to talk to you. 

Med. What about? 

Col. About yourself and the other one! 

Med. Which other one? 

Col. Oh, you needn’t pretend. I saw you flirting. 

Med. [Coming down.] Flirting! What’s that? [Wid. and 
others sitting back .] 

Col. I know your secret. [They come down c.] You love 
him! Isn’t it so? 

Med. Yes! 

Col. Then why didn’t you tell me so that night on the boat. 

Med. Because I did not think then he would look at poor 
little me in such a way as that. 

Col. Why, you ain’t serious, are you? You don’t think of 
marrying him? 

Med. I havn’t thought of anything but his love. 

Col. Why, he’s ever so rich. He’s got an aristocratic mother 
in New York who wouldn’t listen to it. Besides he’s an awful 
flirt. He’ll forget you for the next pretty face he sees. Oh, I 
know ’em. 

Med. Oh, you don’t think him like that. 

Col. They’re all alike, my dear. But don’t cry over it. 
There, there. I’ve been in love myself, often ; been deceived too, 


56 


HORIZON. 


my dear, and all that ; oh, it’s terrible. There was a member of 
Congress from Indiana, then there was the assistant clerk of the 
Under Secretary of the German Minister, he made love to me. 
He was a Baron. I gave him my young heart’s affections, and 
his wife and seven children, all barons, came out in one of the 
Bremen steamers, and took him home. 

Med. I don’t know what will come of it, but I love him too 
much to doubt. Let us talk of something else. Are you not in 
love now? 

Col. My affections are hardened. 

Med. Even to the tall gentleman ? 

Col. Sh! have you observed him ? He’s a nobleman. 

Med. He’s very tall ! 

Col. All English noblemen are ! 

Med. And does he love you ? 

Col. If any one could restore peace to my solitary heart — 
[. Darkness deepens.'] 

Med. He could — 

# Col. He could — if he would. But I’m afraid it don’t enter 
his mind. His head is a little thick. He doesn’t seem to know 
what’s good for him. 

Distant cry like an owl’s heard, as if a signal. All listen, cry 
repeated. 

Med. Did you hear that ? 

Col. It must be pa ! [ Cry repeated.] 

Med. No ! [ Breathlessly putting her ear towards the ground , 

as though to listen.] 

Wid. [ Looking over wall.] I don’t see anybody at all — at all ! 

Med. Quick! Close the gate ! [All run to it.] Bar it ! 

Col. But if pa comes ? 

Med. We can let him in. 

Col. Why, what are you afraid of? 

Med. We are alone and near the woods. If the Indians 
should have been concealed there! 

Col. [. Layghs .] Ha! ha! ha! You little scared thing. Why, 
the soldiers were out all the morning. Come! You must be 
braver ! 

Med. I was so once. But when I was a little girl father took 
me far up the Colorado ; we were surprised there by the Indians 
in our hut. 

Wid. [ Others gather, c.] Howly Saints ! 

Col. Oh, a story ! How delightful ! Do tell it ! 

Med. Alone at night. The darkness gathering, just like now 


HORIZON. 


57 


We had barred the door — there were no windows. I was roused 
from my sleep by a noise, like the stealthy tread of some animal 
on the roof. 

Col. But we have no roof here, and we would see them if 
they came, and shoot them. 

Med. I looked towards the door, the bar seemed to move as 
if some one pressed against it. [The gun which Rfiod. has placed 
against the door , falls.'] 

Col. \_Frightened.] What’s that? 

Wid. Only the gun ! [Runs and places it upright against 
hut , r., and runs to c. again.] 

Med. My father started up, but too late. With a wild shout 
the door was broken down, and the savages were upon us. 

Wahcotah’s head appears above the stockade. Col. sees him and 
screams, and points breathlessly while sinking to the ground. 
Wah. disappears. 

Med. What was it? Speak! 

Col. Indians ! [Knock heard at gate.] 

Wid. We are all murdered! 

Med. We can fight for our lives. [ Runs and grasps gun.] 

Col. Oh, don’t! don’t! You’ll make them so angry. [ Knock 
repeated.] Oh, suppose that is pa ! Open the door, quick. [ Go- 
ing up.] 

Med. Stop! [Holds her back.] Who is there? [Knock re- 
peated] It is the Indians ! Heaven preserve us! 

Wannemucka. [ Outside.] Open the gate ! 

Med. ’Sh! 

Several blows are heard , as though stones were hurled against the 
door. Some of the stakes of the upper part are broken. An 
Indian puts in his head. Med fires; he falls. The gate 
gives way , and the other savages pour in, Wannemucka com- 
ing last and passing to the front of them. They start back 
before the gun, which Med presents, with the crowd of women 
clustering around her, r., all kneeling, but Med. 

Wannemucka. White maiden, put up your gun. Indian too 
many ! 

Med. Wannemucka! Coward! to attack women ! 

Wan. Let the white maiden come with Wannemucka, and 
her sisters shall be free to go. 

Col. Never ! 


58 


HORIZON. 


Wan. Indian too many. White maiden’s gun can kill but 
one. 

Med. Let the one who wishes to be killed come forward, then! 

Wan. [After a pause.'] Braves no wish to hurt white 
maiden. 

Med. Then go ! 

Wan. [Turns to speak to Indians.] Yes! Indians go! In- 
dians fight not women. They seek warriors. [Parleys with 
tribe.] 

Col. Oh, if they will go ! 

Phod. See, they seem to be quarrelling. 

Med. Oh, if they should ! There might be a hope ! 

Wan. and tribe seem to disagree. He turns to Med softly. 

Wan. White maiden, Wannemucka is no enemy. His wig- 
wam was cold and his fires unlighted. The eyes of white maiden 
have warmed his heart, and he would take her to his tribe, their 
princess ! [ Indians murmur.] W annemucka would save the white 
maiden that he loves, and his tribe are angry with him. 

Med. I cannot trust you. 

Wan. White maiden shall see. [To Indians , takes a step in 
advance.] Warriors! Indian braves fight white braves, not 
women. Let the warriors of the Caiute follow their chief, and 
leave the white women in peace. 

Wahcotah. Ugh! The Caiute knows no difference. Their 
lodges are hung with the scalps of women. Wannemucka, cow- 
ard ! traitor ! 

Wan. Wahcotah drunk ! Go! Caiute braves know Wanne- 
mucka! Go! No harm shall come to white women. 

Wah. Wannemucka traitor ! Stand by — 

Draws knife and attempts to press by Wan. He is stopped. Short 
struggle , and all the other Indians press forward and strike 
Wan.; he falls. Wah. kneels over him , as if to strike again. 
Women scream. 

Med. ' Stop ! Another blow, and this bullet strikes you dead! 
[Wah .jumps back.] 

Wan. [Faintly.] White maiden, Indian loved you to his 
death. [He stretches out his arms.] 

Med. Chief, I forgive you. Creep to me — they shall not kill 
you ! [He crawls to her. Indians try to press forward, as he 
falls. She keeps them at bay with the gun.] Nearer — nearer! 


HORIZON. 


59 


This bullet is for him that touches you. Now — now — you are 
safe ! 

Wan. Yes, safe! 

He crawls to her feet , then suddenly springs up , wrenches the gun 
from her, throws it to his men , who receive it with a yell, and 
he grasps her. Indians overpower the rest. 

Wan. Mine ! All mine ! 


Curtain. 


60 


HORIZON. 


ACT V. 

Scene. — A ravine , in which the Indians have camped for the night. 
High ground at sides and at back, surmounted by bushes and 
thick shrubbery. A path, quite high at the back, across from 
r. to l. Paths down from r. and l. to c., at back. Moun- 
tainous perspective. Time — the dark hour before daylight. 
A tent of skins in c., midway up stage. Smouldering embers 
of a camp fire at l. A clump of bushes at a half eminence on 
r., behind the tent. 

Onata and five Indian girls are grouped around the tent, which 
is closed. Wannemucka stands, R. c., leaning on his rifle, 
watching his tent. Irish family, Widow, Rhoda and Co- 
lumbia, l. c., guarded by a group of Indians. They are 
seated on the ground, their heads covered with shawls, hand- 
kerchiefs, etc. At the eminence on the r. is seated an Indian 
on guard. Wahcotah seated in buffalo dress , l. c. 

Wannemucka. The day is almost here, but the Caiute war- 
riors may rest until it comes. The flight was long, and the way 
hard. What says Ouata ? 

Onata. The maidens rejoice that their warriors have returned, 
but not that they bring white women to the tribe. 

Wan. The beloved of Wannemucka need not fear. The white 
maiden shall be the slave of Onata. 

Ona. Onata needs no slave whose face is like the white moon, 
and shines through all the lodge. 

Wan. She is the prize of Wannemucka, and marks his 
triumph. Go, look upon her. She is weak and frightened. She 
is ill. 

Ona. If she die, the Indian women will be glad. [Exits into 
the tent.~\ 

Wan. Let the will of the Great Spirit be done. 

Wahcotah. [ Pises and goes to Wa/n.~\ The Great Spirit marks 
out the time of all things. He scatters the flowers and the buds to- 
gether. [Aside to Wan.~] The herbs have done their work. 

Wan. When will she sink to sleep? 

Wah. Her eyes close even now. 

Wan. Go then ! Tell Onata that the white maiden will not 
see the sun rise. [Wah. nods, goes to tent, looks in, then goes off, 


HORIZON. * 61 

L. Onata comes out cautiously , looks at Wan., who stands stolidly , 
R. c., and glides out after Wah.] 

Wan. Ugh! \_When she is off.] The white woman makes 
her dark sister angry. [ Calls to Indian scout on eminence.'] Go! 

Indian. [ Coming down.] All is silent! 

Wan. The white men will not find us. They have sought us 
in our ancient hunting grounds. [The other Indians rise up and 
come to c., surrounding Wan. On a. steals in behind them and 
enters tent.] My brothers ask for council, the braves shall have 
their wish. Bring in the paleface. [ The Indian scout goes out 
R.] The warriors have taken no scalps, and their hatchets are 
unstained. 

Bowse enters , guarded by the Indian. 

Loosen the gag. Let the white warrior speak. 

Bowse. I’m much obliged. I havn’t had so much in my 
mouth for several years. 

Columbia. [ Springs up.] Oh, pa! is it you? [Runs to- 
wards him , Indians stop her.] Oh, let me go ! 

Wan. Let the white maiden go to him. She loves him. 

Col. Oh, pa, dear! I was afraid I’d never see you again. 
Oh, can’t we get away? What will they do to us? 

Row. I don’t know, my child! But if ever I get back to 
Washington alive, I mean to turn my attention to Indian affairs. 
I’ll bring in a bill to settle this. 

Wan. The white maiden loves you ! 

Row. I guess she does. She’s my daughter. 

Wan. She is fair, she will make a bride for one of our braves. 

Col. [Screams.] Oh ! the wretches ! I won’t have any 
braves ! I don’t want to be a bride. 

Wan. The white woman will learn to love the young war- 
riors. She will bake their bread and dig their corn. 

Col. Will I ? I’ll break their heads and scratch their faces. 

Wan. Take her away ! [She and Row. are separated.] Now, 
paleface ! 

Row. Don’t call me paleface ! My name is Bowse ! Sun- 
down Bowse, Washington, D. C. 

Wan. The paleface has a double name! What does his 
name signify ? What rank is Bowse? Is he a chief, is he a war- 
rior among the palefaces? 

Row. [Aside.] I suppose the greater I am, the more con- 
sideration they’ll show me. [Aloud.] Yes. Bowse big chief! 
Big warrior! 

Wan. Where are the big warrior’s hunting grounds? Where 
does he battle? 


62 


HOKIZON. 


Row. Where do I fight? My principal battle ground is the 
lobby. 

Indians. [ To each other. ] Lobby ! [ Seem puzzled.'] 

Wan. Rowse take many scalps? 

Row. Oh, we don’t take scalps any more. We don’t want 
any hair — we sleep on spring mattresses now. 

Wan. Big chief must have killed many. 

Row. Oh, yes. I’ve killed a great many — bills. 

Wan. How he kill them? 

Row. Squelched ’em in the Committee of the Whole, or beat 
’em on the Third Reading. 

Wan. Rowse great warrior then? 

Row. Oh, I believe. you! 

Wan. Rowse lie! 

Row. Eh? What’s that you say? 

Wan. White man lie! Rowse no warrior! Wear no war 
paint ! [ Points to clothes.] No blue ! no gold buttons, no belt 
for long knife! 

Row. The rascals know a soldier when they see one! 

Col. You horrid savages. My father is a great chief. He’s 
one of the prominent men of Washington ! 

Wan. Prominent man! Ugh! Medicineman! 

Row. They’re laughing at us, C’lumby. We can’t stuff ’em. 
We’ll have to beg off. 

Col. It’s shameful ! and to think you own the whole country 
too! 

Row. Yes. I’m in the hands of some more of my tenants. 
They couldn’t treat me worse if I’d come to collect the rent. 

Wan. [ Consults with Indians , then :] What says the daughter 
of the paleface? Does the white man claim the whole country? 

Col. Yes, he does! All this land belongs to him ! 

Row. Yes, and I’ve got the grant in my pocket, much good 
it’s done me. 

Wan. Who gave our white brother this land? 

Row. Congress, you red rascal! 

Wan. Congress give you land and water and trees and all? 

Row. Here, C’lumby, take out the grant and show ’em? 

Col. [ Takes paper out of his pocket.] Here it is ! [ Opens it.] 

And here’s the map! [ Spreads the map.] 

Row. Look at that! Every acre of it mine! 

Wan. Congress gives it to you. Congress bad spirit! Bad 
spirit made the lying paper that takes the land and the water 
from the red man and gives it to the paleface. [ Snatches papers 
from Col .] Burn the bad spirit. [ Gives them to Indians who 
carry them to fire.] 


I 


HORIZON. 63 

Row. Here, I say! "Vyhat are you about? 

Wan. Ugh! Whiteman prays for bad spirit. [The paper 
is in flames , and the Indians shout around it.] 

Row. Well, curse my luck. My grant gone! my map gone! 
my hands tied, and three thousand miles from Congress! Oh, 
you infernal rascals. 

Wan. Seize the paleface and prepare the stake. 

Row. What! 

Col. Oh, my poor papa! Oh, pa, what do they mean? 

Row. I don’t know! I’m very sicl^. [At a sign from Wan. 
Indians seize Row.] 

Wan. Let the paleface pray. When the dawn breaks he 
dies! 

Row. is carried off \ l., struggling. Col. is kept from him at a sign 
from Wan., who also darts an angry glance at him and silences 
him until he is quite off. Wan. advances towards the tent, 
which suddenly opens and Med appears, followed hy Onata. 
The Indians draw back in a cluster, l. c., up stage about 
Wah., and all look on curiously. 

Med. Let us go on! See, the sun is up! the daylight has 
come ! the birds are singing. 

Wan. Beautiful maiden ! all is dark about you. The night 
is cold. The earth is wet with dew. Go back to the couch of 
skins, which your dark sisters have made for you. 

Med. No! no! see how bright everything is ! 

Wan. [Aside to Wah.~\ The herb is making her mad. The 
Indian women will not hate her now! 

Col. [Running to her. ] Oh, Med! Med! 

Med. Who is this? — Alleyn? 

Col. Don’t you know me, Med? 

Med. You said you loved me! Come, let us go! [Sinks on 
ground. Col. bends over her.'] 

Col. She is dying ! 

Onata. She is favored by the great Manitou ! He has taken 
away her mind. 

Wah. [Approaches, throwing back his buffalo head.] Fear 
not! I will speak to the pale sister! [He kneels and takes her 
hand.] 

Wan. Will the maiden grow better? 

Wah. She is near the spirit land! Already she beholds it! 
[Rises.] 

Med. Alleyn! Dear Alleyn! [Takes CoVs hand.] I told 
you, you remember, that I was doomed to die. I did not think 


64 


HORIZON. 


so soon! Look! my father! [Wan. turns aside .] No, father, 
I will come to you. She is not my mother, and I will not go to 
her. Dear father, don’t turn from me. I am with you ! [ Her 

eyes grow fixed. She is gently laid back by Col., who sobs and the 
Indian maiden takes her.] 

Wah. The white maiden is as the leaf upon the ground — as 
the fallen rosebud. 

Col. Oh, my poor darling ! 

The women tenderly raise her , and take her into the tent , followed 
by Ona. and Col. the tent is closed. Widow, Rhoda and 
Molly enter. 

Wan. When will she wake ? 

Wah. If she sleeps till the dawn, it will be sunset before she 
opens her eye to the light. But a little now might rouse her again. 
Wan. And Onata ? 

Wah. I gave Onata the drink. She thinks it poison. 

Wan. When the sun rises, our march will be resumed, and 
Onata will seek the land beyond the hills of the south with the 
tribe. Wannemucka will then return and enjoy the prize which 
many moons have still found him pursuing, still hopeless, but 
undespairing. 

Wah. See, the women begin their lamentations. 

Wah. re-covers his head. The tent is opened. Onata and the 
women crouch on the ground near a couch, c., on which Med 
lies, Col. kneeling near the head. 

Wan. [ Goes to foot of couch , bends over it.'] As the roses on 
the stalk droop, when one of their number is plucked away, let 
the fair sisters of our tribe bewail her. She shall be laid under 
the prairie grass, where the wolf shall not find her, for her grave 
shall be deep as the red man’s love ! 

Onata and the Indian girls break into the following low chant: 

Let us speak of her : 

She was white as the white snow, 

And her spirit went away 
Under the breath of Manitou, 

As snow flees before the sun. 

As the chant is dying away, the distant sound of a drum mingles 
with it, at first unperceived by the Indians. The music dies 
away, and the drum continues. The Indians' listen. 


HORIZON. 


65 


Wan. The white warriors! [All start up .] Quick, cover 
the fires! 

The tent is covered again , concealing all the women. Indians en- 
ter , bringing Rowse. The fire is scattered. All bend low 
to the earth. 

Bowse. Oh, you murdering rascals, you are caught at last ! 
Col. [Bursting from tent, wffli Widow, etc.'] It is Alleyn! 
Widow. Woroo ! We are saved ! 

Wan. Seize them ! [All are seized and held by the Indians 
with drawn knives.'] If you breathe a cry, you die ! 

A party of soldiers are seen crossing the high path at back. Drum 
outside still. 

Alleyn. [ Outside.] Halt ! 

Sergeant. [Same.] Halt! [The soldiers pause.] 

Alleyn, Sergeant and Mr. Smith appear on bridge and look 

down. 

Alleyn. Is there a path down this ravine ? 

Row. Oh, if this infernal knife wasn’t at my throat ! 

Mr. Smith. [Looking down.] By Jove, I don’t see anything 
here ! 

Row. Oh, you never could see anything anywhere! 

Ser. Black as pitch. 

Al. Listen ! don’t you hear the branches crack ? 

Row. I wish some one would sneeze! 

Mr. S. I can’t hear anything? 

Row. Of course you can’t, you fool ! 

Al. Where is Loder ? 

Ser. He took another cut through the woods, more to the 
south. He thought he found traces of the scoundrels. 

Al. Then we had better follow his lead. Come, let us hasten. 
Mr. S. Ya’as, that’s what I say. I’ll go on through the gully 
in this direction. 

Al. We’ll keep on through the wood. Keep the drum beat- 
ing, Sergeant, so that if our poor friends hear it, they may know 
we are near. 

Drum again , soldiers and all off. Mr. S. on l. 

Row. Well, ’pon my soul! They’re precious asses to be sent 
out here to hunt Indians ! [He kicks over the Indian near him.] 

5 


66 


HORIZON. 


Wan. [As the drum dies away in the distance.'] The captives 
may be freed, but let no one speak. 

Bow. Now, will anybody tell me the use of having friends, 
when they walk right over you like — 

Loder appears on eminence , r., pushes aside the branches cautiously 
and says: "Ah!” Wan., Row. and Wah. repeat the excla- 
mation and turn and see him. A pause. He dashes away, 
r., Row. following him with his eye, but not moving. Wan. 
directs Wah. to follow Lod., Wah. draws his knife and glides 
out. All breathless attention. 

Wan. [To Indian.] Quick! Glide by the water course, and 
stop the flight of White Panther on the north. 

Bow. Two to one! Loder can’t stand that! 

Wan. Silence ! 

All quiet. A pause. Loder enters, dressed in the disguise of 
Wah., and personating him. As he enters , looks backward off 
l., wiping his knife, as if of blood. 

Wan. Ha! You have slain White Panther. [Lod. shakes 
head.] No ! Then Cayote will find him there upon the ravine 
path. Hist! [The Indian enters with Mr. Smith, who is im- 
pelled forward at point of knife.] 

Mr. Smith. Aw, by Jove, this is what I get for going off on 
my own account. 

Bow. The Honorable, by all that’s unlucky ! Then it wasn’t 
Loder I saw ! 

Mr. S. Here, I say! Use me gently! Pm a British subject, 
and the British flag — [He is bound and cast beside Bow.] 

Wan. [ To Indian .] White Panther fled ? 

Indian. Yes! Fled! 

Wan. Then we must, break camp! He will bring them all 
upon us. [To Lod.] Quick, rouse the white lily ! She must be 
carried with us. [Lod. nods and takes rifle.] No fire ! Alarm 
white warriors ! 

Lod. [Shakes his head.] No! Gone! [He approaches Med. 
and bends gently over her. Daylight begins to break.] 

Bow. Smith, we’re lost! We’ll be taken to the other end of 
creation ! 

Mr.S. Oh, Lord ! 

Wan. No! Indians fly! White women fly! White men 
remain! [To Indians.] Bind the white captives to yonder 
trees and pin them with your knives. [Bugle.] 


HORIZON. 


67 


Mr. S. and Row. Oh, Lord ! [Indians seize them and yell.'] 

The drum is heard faintly again. All silent in a moment. Med. 
starts up at the sound. 

Mr. S. They’ve missed me and are returning. 

Wan. [To Lod. and approaching Med.] Quick! To the 
woods ! [Drum nearer.] 

Lod. [ Casting off his disguise.] Indian ! Stand back ! 

Wan. White Panther ! 

Lod. Aye, Loder, White Panther ! 

Wan. Spy ! [Springs towards him with uplifted Jcnife. All 
the savages with a yell spring upon their captives. Lod. seizes 
Med and fires his rifle at Wan., who falls.] 

In an instant the ravine is filled with soldiers. Alleyn darts 
forward and Loder passes Med to him just in time to ward 
her from a blow aimed by Onata, who darts out of the tent. 
Powse and Mr. Smith floor their guards. Columbia runs 
to Mr. S., and, on this picture of triumph, the — 

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